Sex Ed
by xElementFivex
Summary: The stupid egg was not Mello's baby, any more than the stupid redhead was his new husband. Welcome to the Wammy's class project from hell.
1. Chapter 1

**How many times has this type of story been done? Far too many, I'm sure. But I'll throw mine into the mix anyway.**

**Edit: Reposted. Oh spell-check how you kill me.**

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Wammy's House children were the best of the best; so naturally, they got only the finest education that money could buy. No expense was spared to help shape the minds of L's potential successors. Wammy's offered classes on everything from philosophy and ancient literature, to advanced mathematics and theoretical sciences. Every language imaginable was available, with native speakers flown in to teach. In fact, there were more classes than children at Wammy's.

There was one class, however, that was absent from the list. Sex Education. Roger was the one who approved each and every course, and the thought of offering that particularly one made him very uncomfortable. Roger was a conservative man, and as long the children weren't getting themselves into trouble of… that sort, he didn't see a need to have a Sex Ed class.

That arrangement worked out just fine until two of the kids were caught doing _things._ The kind of things that made Roger adjust his necktie and cough nervously when they were brought into his office for a talking to (which Roger eventually gave up on, and just sent them on their way with a stern slap on the wrist). It took an awkward and embarrassing situation to do it, but Roger finally caved and decided to offer Sex Ed. He contacted the Health teacher and asked her to cover the new class, and then put the whole uncomfortable situation out of his mind.

For two weeks, that is. The teacher had resigned suddenly, and Roger hadn't had time to find a replacement. So Monday morning found the older man, lugging a large briefcase to a classroom in the science wing, and cursing his rotten luck.

Reaching the correct room and placing his case gently on the desk, he turned towards the whiteboard so he wouldn't have to look the students straight in the eye. "So," he began, "As you may have heard, Ms. Tackett had somewhat of a nervous breakdown this last weekend-"

"Yeah, she did!" Two boys in the back of the classroom laughed and exchanged a hi-five. Roger signed and pretended not to have heard.

"-And decided it might be best if she didn't teach for awhile," he finished. "Now, I don't know what she was teaching you, but the Wammy's House official position on sex is _abstinence." _He wrote the word on the whiteboard and underlined it. "And I've decided the best way to illustrate this," he turned to face the class and immediately wished he hadn't. Roger really didn't care for children-especially a roomful of them staring at him, "Is to show how your actions have consequences."

Roger flipped open his briefcase and removed the carton of eggs he had had one of the cooks give him that morning. "So I'm assigning each of you a partner and an egg. This egg will be your child. The child you could end up with if you choose to partake in sexual activities while you're still underage. You will take it everywhere with you, and I mean everywhere. It will be your responsibility until the end of the week and if you break, crack, or otherwise maim your egg, you will fail the project. To get an A, I'll need to see that you really did treat it as a child, and not just as an egg. Also- Yes, Mello?"

A blonde boy in the second row wearing dark jeans and a faded Von Bondies t-shirt had raised his hand. "I'm gay. May I be excused from this project?"

Roger sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That didn't get you of gym, Mello, and it's not getting you out of this." He continued his instructions on the project.

Mello scowled and lowered his hand. He didn't want to be in this dumb class anyway. It was a complete waste of his time. He'd wanted to take Russian Literature, but Near was taking the stupid Sex Ed class (Lord knows why), and Mello had decided a long time ago that it wouldn't be good enough just to beat Near for the number one spot by loading up his schedule with easier classes. No, it would only be a true victory if he beat him in all the same classes. The only problem? He still wasn't beating Near. So now Mello was stuck learning about abstinence and eggs and whatever other bullshit Roger decided to throw at them.

"Did you hear a word I just said, Mello?" Roger's voice cut through Mello's inner monologue.

Mello folded his arms and slumped lower in his seat. "No."

"I said you'll be paired with Matt for this project."

Mello sat up suddenly. "Can't I be paired with a chick? That seems kind of gay." He didn't actually care if he was paired with a guy or not, he just really didn't want to do this project. Mello was hoping that maybe if he got a girl as a partner, he could lay off most of the work on her and still make an A.

"Mello, am I to believe that you are now offended by mentions of your sexuality even after you blatantly use it to try and weasel your way out of work."

Mello scowled and narrowed his eyes.

"I thought not," Roger continued. "Now, if you had been listening, you would have heard me say that we have fewer ladies than young men in this class and that there would have to be a few same-sex couples." When a few of the boys in the class groaned at his words, but Roger glared in their direction until they quieted. "Now come up and get your egg. I'll sign it so that I know you haven't replaced it over the next week, and then you're free to go."

Mello looked away the classroom as one by one, the newly assigned 'couples' went forward to the desk to receive their new child. Matt. The name rang a bell, but to be honest, Mello didn't really concern himself the other children at Wammy's House. He only had eyes for Near, but not in a loving way."Matt?" he questioned to the room. When no one responded, he turned to a boy a few rows back. "Hey Drake, who's Matt?"[

Drake looked up from his newly acquired egg, which his partner (a girl) was cooing over like it was a real baby. Stupid. "Matt's that redheaded kid. Sits in the back. He never really pays attention. Just plays a handheld. I don't think he's even here today."

Mello made an angry sound in his throat. Just his fucking luck. Somehow, he decided, this had to be Near's fault. If it weren't for Near, he wouldn't even be in this stupid class, having to take care of a dumb egg, with a no-show partner.

This project was totally going to suck.

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**Reviews? I love you all deeply.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A little less humorous than the first chapter, but for good reason. Things should settle back down in coming chapters.**

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"Oh god, this is stupid," Mello groaned as he let his forehead thunk down onto the table. He ignored the din of the cafeteria around him and lifted his head high enough to rest just his chin on the table.

It was there. At eye level, just past the mountain of mashed potatoes and peas on his plate. The egg.

"_You're_ stupid," Mello said, staring the egg down. Look at it- just sitting there, mocking him with its round, eggy-ness. "I hate you so much." He reached out a finger to poke the egg.

Mistake. The egg teetered for a second, knocked from its precarious position, and began to roll unevenly towards the opposite edge. "Shit!" Mello said as he half-dove across the table and managed to grab the egg before it could smash onto the floor- and straight into an F grade.

"You should really be more careful with your egg Mello," said a soft voice from behind him. Near. Only Near had the ability to speak so quietly, yet still sound so damn condescending. Mello scowled and turned around, still clutching his egg.

"Oh yeah?" he said with a sneer, looking at Near's hands, empty except for a well-creased paperback. "And where's yours? Or do even inanimate objects not want to be around you?"

"Xanthe has it," Near said, shrugging. Mello seethed silently; he hated it when his insults were ignored. "I think she's playing the violin for it, to help stimulate its brain."

"It's an egg. It doesn't have a brain."

"We're supposed to treat it like a child."

"Well, I am treating it like a child," Mello said, eyeing his egg distastefully. "This is exactly how I would treat a child. I fucking hate kids."

"Hmm," mused Near, tapping the book against his hand. "So is that what you're going to write in your egg journal? That you verbally abused it?"

"My what?"

"Egg journal."

Mello's face twisted into a murderous expression. "What the fuck is an egg journal?"

Near sighed. "You didn't listen to Roger's instructions at all, did you Mello?

Mello shrugged. "Of course not."

Another sighed again and ran a free hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "We're supposed to write in a journal each day, and document all the things we do with our egg. It's half the grade."

"Jesus Christ," Mello pressed a hand to his face and muttered. "Could this project get any fucking stupider?"

"Rankings go up today," Near said, changing the subject..

"Yeah," Mello growled through clenched teeth. "I know."

Near shot him an unreadable look. "Good luck," he said, and walked off, burying his nose in his book.

Damn, did Mello hate that kid. He grated on Mello's nerves and gave him the most overwhelming urge to strangle someone. He was always best and he didn't seem to try- or even care.

"Fuck it," Mello said, standing up and rolling his egg between his fingers. It was time to go look at this month's rankings. There were more important things than a stupid project to worry about right now.

Rankings came on the fifteenth day of every month. They were calculated meticulously, using every grade the children had available, and factoring in other variables, like attendance and participation. It was finely tuned system- and one that Mello absolutely loathed. The other kids could get excited about it, seeing their names move up and down in the rankings depending on how hard they had worked. But not for Mello.

Mello had only ever seen his name in one place on that list- right below Near's. He didn't suppose this time would be any different, but he still stalked as quickly as dignity would allow him over to the bulletin board outside Roger's office.

It only took him a second to run his eyes down the typed page and confirm what he already knew. He was second and Near was first. Like always.

And like always, Mello's hands began to involuntarily tighten into fists, nearly crushing his egg. "Goddamnit!" he cursed, holding the offending object in front of him. A few students nearby backed away. Most of them knew full well to stay far, far away from him on ranking day.

Mello stared at the egg a few more seconds, a twitch starting to develop in right eye, before turning promptly on his heel and stalking down the crowded hallway.

"Matt!" he yelled loudly. "Matt!" Where the hell was that partner of his? He had had enough. He'd be damned if he was going to do this idiotic project on his own, not when he had more important things to worry about. "Matt!" he screeched again, and a girl nearby frowned at him.

"What?" said a voice from his left, and Mello nearly fell over in surprise. He whipped his head to left and was met with the sight of a tall, lanky, red-headed teenager leaning against the door to the rec room, hands fiddling with a DS.

"Are you Matt?" Mello recovered his anger quickly enough and rounded on the boy.

"Yeah. Are you the dude that's been running down the hall yelling my name?" the boy replied casually, never taking his eyes from the screen.

"I'm Mello," he growled in response. "And you're my partner for the Sex Ed project, and I think that you should take responsibility for our egg now. Are you even listening to me?" Mello reached out and yanked the small stylus from Matt's hand.

"Hey!" Matt exclaimed, looking up. "I was using that!"

"Like I said," Mello continued, holding out the egg. "I've been carrying this thing around all day. You should take it now."

"Uh, sure," Matt replied, raising his eyebrows and taking the egg from Mello's outstretched hand. "Can I have my stylus back now? I'm trying to beat Zelda here." Matt slipped the egg into his jacket pocket as he spoke.

Mello's eye twitch increased. "What are you doing?"

"Holding onto the egg? Seriously, man, give me back my stylus."

"Not until you take better care of our egg!" Mello screeched, his voice increasing with his anger.

Matt scoffed. "Don't order me around, dude." Mello's eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath to speak, but Matt cut him off. "And don't start with that whole, 'Oh, I'm Mello. I'm terrifying. I have a horrible temper and act like a spoiled brat when I'm not number one', routine. I'm not scared of it. Yeah," he said, at the surprised look on Mello's face. "I know who you are. It's kind of hard to miss the guy who's always stomping around, destroying the peace, like a toddler who got his favorite toy taken away. Listen, I'll do this project with you, but I will not be ordered around by you. And I will _not _be fucking intimidated by you, because let me tell you a little secret blondie," Matt lowered his voice and leaned in close, "I guarantee that I hit a hell of a lot harder than you."

Matt plucked the stylus out of Mello's hand, taking advantage of the blonde's shock. "Thanks," he said, turning to go. "I'll bring the egg by tonight. So we can name it and shit." He smiled brightly and wiggled his fingers at Mello. "Bye now."

Mello stood still, staring at the redhead's retreating back. This… was…

This was unacceptable. He didn't think he had ever been this mad in his life. No one, _no one, _spoke to him that way. Right then and there, he resolved to get this thing straightened out tonight, when Matt came by. Mello would make it clear that he was not a person to be trifled with.

But, for the first time in his life… Mello wasn't so confident he would win.

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**Hmm, that's just how I see Mello sometimes. Spoiled by the system at Wammy's, but so angry at being second he can hardly see straight. Sigh. Motivations are hard to figure out.**

**But on the brighter side, I like my Matt with a lotta backbone. =]**

**Reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ah, I am just terrible for making you guys wait this long. I'm sorry. Blah blah I was sick blah blah work blah no one cares blah. I hope you all decide to stick with the story.**

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Mello was angry. No, it was more than that. He was pissed off. Incensed. Infuriated. Enraged. About to fucking kill somebody. And even though he really hoped that somebody would be Matt or Near, he wasn't going to be picky.

With much more force than necessary, Mello slammed shut the textbook he had just been reading. _A Conceptual Guide to Genetics_ clattered off his desk and hit the floor with a thick thud that released a bit of the tension in his chest. His anthology of classic British literature hit the ground next, alongside a half-finished essay on the Divine Comedy.

With every item thrown, Mello imagined it flying straight into Matt's face. Matt, who hadn't been scared of him. Matt, who had threatened him. Matt, who had said he'd come over that evening and still hadn't shown up even though the clock now steadily ticking its way toward one in the morning.

Yeah, that Matt.

Mello had just picked up his heaviest book (_Introductory Statistics_) and was preparing to heave it to the floor to join the growing pile, when a voice sounded from behind him. Startled, he let the book slip from his fingers. Gravity decided to use his foot as some sort of cruel flesh-trampoline as the heavy book bounced off and then flopped open to a page somewhere in the middle as Mello grabbed his foot in pain. He spun awkwardly on one foot to see the intruder and was greeted by the sight of Matt's head peering in through his now open bedroom window.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mello shrieked. The throbbing in his toes was a minor annoyance compared to being taken by surprise. It was a weakness of the worst kind, in Mello's mind at least.

Matt chucked and slid his lanky body through the window, not bothering to close it behind him. The arrogant comfort with which he invaded the room set Mello's teeth on edge. "The window locks in this place _suck._" Matt grinned.

"Gee, I don't know," Mello said, letting go of his foot to stand up straight in as confrontational manner as he could manage. "Maybe when they made them, they just assumed no one would be stupid enough to try to climb in a _third-story window._"

"Then that's where they went wrong," Matt answered, smirking, "Because I believe that there's not a thing in this world that wasn't designed specifically for me to destroy, dismantle or climb on."

"Great," Mello muttered, "I'm doing this project with a toddler. How did you even get up here anyway?" He cast a suspicious glance at the window.

"I was on the roof of the gym. It's real easy, all you gotta do is grab onto the ledge right over there and-"

Mello's eyes widened and he cut Matt off angrily, "Did you break our egg? I swear to God if I fail this project because of you-"

"Chill, man. Chill." Matt dug in his pocket for a second and then held out the small, white object. "I didn't break your precious A plus."

Mello scowled and snatched the egg up, looking at Matt disdainfully. "So I figure we need to get some stuff straight. First off, you need to-"

Matt interrupted him. "Woah, I thought I made it perfectly clear this afternoon. I don't take orders from you." As he was speaking, the redhead strode over to Mello's desk and sat heavily in the chair, limbs sprawling in a casual way that irked Mello even more. "I'm a pretty chill guy, but seriously, I'm not gonna take your shit." Mello's eye twitched and his hand tightened on the egg. "So I figure we can keep doing this thing, which by the way, I'm convinced is really just a metaphorical argument about who has the bigger dick, _or_," Matt ran a hand through his hair as spoke, "we could try to get along and do this project like normal human beings instead of enormous douchebags. Sound good? Good, so what do you wanna name it anyway?

Mello brought his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration as Matt rifled through the papers on his desk. He had never met anyone in his life that irritated him as much as Matt did. He could have sworn the red head was doing it on purpose, but for the fact that he just seemed so damn natural at it. He was like some sort of super-secret brain-ninja, completely immune to Mello's rage. He didn't even so much as flinch as Mello concentrated all the power of his 'Prepare to die' glare at him.

He was immune. And God, did that ever piss Mello off.

"Do you have any suggestions," Matt continued, completely unaware of the potentially nuclear-strength bomb that could go off at any moment. "Cause I was thinking Cloud."

"What?" Mello was distracted from his overwhelming desire to strangle Matt for long enough to make a face. "What kind of name is that?"

"Squall? Oh, I know, how about Sephiroth?"

"Those are all terrible names."

"What?" Matt looked incredulous. "No love for Final Fantasy. Fine then, have it your way. We'll name it Peach."

"That's not my way!" Mello said, seriously wondering at that moment how Matt had gotten into Wammy's in the first place. He appeared to have the attention span of a gnat.

"Psshh," Matt snorted. "Mario is everyone's way, Mello. You can't beat a classic. Averroes."

"What?" Mello felt like he had been saying nothing but the word 'what' all evening.

"They've got you reading Averroes." Matt held up a small, green book. "Demonstrative syllogisms. Fun stuff." He tossed the book back on the desk lightly.

Mello didn't know what to say. He was torn between continued anger at Matt (the obvious choice) and surprise that Matt knew anything about what he was reading. He knew, intellectually, that Matt had to be smart. He was just having a hard time connecting the facts with the reality in front of him.

"Well, I'll tell you this," Matt said, jumping and startling him. "I'm glad we decided on Peach. Really great name. Like I said, classic. Now I," he shuffled over to the door and opened it, "am off to bed. I'll come by in the morning to take Peach to my Computer Science class. She's gonna be a techie, I just know it." He wiggled his fingers goodbye at Mello and the egg and then promptly shut the door.

Once again, Mello stood frozen. He didn't know whether to be mad, impressed, or annoyed. In the end, he settled on a combination of all three as he placed the egg- Peach- gently on his bedside table. Oddly enough, he possibly, maybe, just a little was looking forward to the next morning.

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**I love each and every one of my reviewers. =] So be kind, leave a review!**

**And also, on a side note: I finally am getting my cosplay together for the Akon convention this year! Anyway else going?**

**And also, also there's an update section on my profile for anyone following any other stories.**


	4. Chapter 4

**... Oh... did I promise you all a light-hearted story? This chapter is not so light-hearted, but it is necessary. The tone of the story won't stay this dark though, so never fear! Our boys just need to work out their differences the only way teenage boys know how...**

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The next morning Mello was woken by a loud, insistent rapping on his door. One glance at his alarm clock confirmed his suspicions that yes, it was six am, and yes, that was far fucking too early to be woken up. Especially since he had been having the most delightful dream about Near's face being eaten off by a giant hamster- an idea with thrilled him to no end as long as he didn't spend too long pondering the horror of a giant, flesh-eating hamster roaming the halls of Wammys and instead focused on the sweet, sweet carnage that was Near's dream-death.

Mello considered getting up and opening the door for a whole two seconds before promptly burying his head under his pillow. If someone was enough of a jerk to wake him up at six am than he was enough of a jerk to make them stand out in the hallway for an hour. Now he could the next hour sweetly imagining all of the horrible things that could happen to Near that day. Just thinking about it brought a smile to-

Mello sat bolt upright as the person outside switched from a gentle knocking to playing a full-out drum solo against the wooden door. Mello threw his blankets angrily aside and growled, "I'm coming, I'm coming. _Jesus Christ_," he muttered as he swung open the door. "What the hell do you think you're-"

"Good morning!" Matt's voice was overly cheerful, and Mello scowled harder. Matt was rocking back and forth slightly on his heels, apparently too full of energy for the day to contain it. The sight pissed Mello off.

Matt, it seemed, had developed quite a knack for doing that. Especially today. He was too cheerful, too energetic, too… Matt-ish for Mello to take.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mello repeated. "It is clearly far too early for me to deal with you. Do you not own a clock or are you just stupid?"

Matt ignored Mello's question as he stood on his tiptoes, craning his neck to peer over Mello and into his room. "How's Peach doing? Did she sleep okay last night?"

Mello folded his arms across his chest and said with disdain, "It's an egg, Matt."

Again Matt ignored him. "I feel bad for waking her up this early but-"

"Feel bad for waking _me _up this early!" Mello screeched suddenly. It was too much. He neither knew how nor cared to learn how to deal with this bizarre, lively, _annoying_ boy.

"-I figured we could go eat a family breakfast before class," Matt finished.

"Matt!" Finally, Matt's eyes snapped downwards to look at Mello. "_We_ are not a family, _that _is just an egg, and _you_ woke me up too damn early for this shit."

Matt sighed and rocked back from his tiptoe position. "It's like I said last night Mello, I just thought that maybe we could get along for five seconds and finish this project without every single detail being this huge deal. Maybe we could even get a new friend out it."

Mello scowled even harder. "Good fucking luck. You've officially annoyed the shit out of me. All I want is an A on this project and then I want to never see you again. In fact, right now I'm resisting the urge to punch you. You're lucky I haven't."

For this first time since they had met, Matt dropped the carefree look on his face. "Fine," he snapped. "Can I have Peach? I still want to take her to my class. You can stay here and have fun doing whatever it is you do."

The two boys stared each other down for a long second. Narrowing his eyes, Mello turned and strode swiftly over to his bedside table and picked up the egg. He shoved it none-too-gently into Matt's outstretched hand.

Matt took an appraising glance at the egg, and after confirming it had come to no harm in the night, he nodded at Mello and said, "Thanks."

Mello didn't bother to answer or acknowledge that Matt had even spoken. His blood was boiling and his grip on the door was white-knuckled.

Matt turned and walked away, but then stopped. Mello, in the process of closing the door, glanced curiously toward the redhead. He watched as Matt placed the egg carefully on the ground next to the wall and propped it up with books from his bag to make sure it wouldn't fall. He wrinkled his brow in confusion as Matt turned around and walked back towards him. "Oh, Mello? One last thing…"

Mello swung the door fully open once again and said harshly, "What now?"

Matt calmly walked right up to him, swung back his right arm, and punched Mello in the face.

"What the fuck!" Mello staggered back from the blow, and clutched at his nose, feeling blood stream steadily onto his fingers. He allowed the shock of the sudden hit to overtake him for a few seconds, and then shook his head, trying to clear it. "Fuck!" he swore loudly and charged at Matt, who was still standing, casually, in the door way.

The redhead easily evaded Mello's fist, at the same time sticking his foot out and tripping him. Mello stumbled to the floor and Matt quickly knelt down, pressing one knee firmly into Mello's back. He brought his lips close to Mello's ear and said, "Remember when I said I guarantee that I hit a hell of a lot harder than you do? I wasn't lying. Now I don't know why you have this piss-poor fucking attitude Mello, but it's getting really old. I don't _have _to work with you on this project but for some reason, Lord knows why, I like you. You're interesting. At least more interesting than everyone else I'm stuck with here. And I'm not saying you have to be my friend, or even like me, but a little fucking respect and common courtesy goes a long way. Your attitude may be fun and all for now, but honestly, has there ever been a day in your life where you were actually happy? Where's the fucking joy in your life, Mello?"

Matt leaned back and lessened the weight on Mello's back. Mello immediately pushed himself off the floor, and wiped at the blood on his face indignantly. He spluttered, searching for words to express his… outrage? Confusion? He didn't even know.

Matt, unfazed by Mello's inability to form a coherent sentence, got up and retrieved Peach and his things from across the hallway. "You can join us in the cafeteria if you want," he said casually over his shoulder before leaving. "I'd consider it, because really Mello, hitting you is the literally the least I can if you keep making this project such a chore." He winked, as if to offset the gravity of his threat.

Mello watched him go, one hand to his nose, the other clenched in a ball at his side. It was the second time Matt had threatened him, but this time, for some reason, the threat seemed much more real.

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**Hmmm... NEVER WAKE MELLO UP EARLY.**

**What's Matt got up his sleeve that would make Mello sorry? Really, it's probably not as exciting as whatever you're thinking right now.**

**Reviews=love**


	5. Chapter 5

**What's that noise? Could it be... plot developing? **

**Weird.**

**Also, credit to Miss Bright, for inspiring breakfast-related shenanigans in this chapter.**

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_Thunk. _Mello slammed his plate down on the wooden table, surprising Matt, who had been absorbed in his DS. Mello made as much noise as physically possible pulling out his chair and sitting down, all to make it quite clear that he did _not _want to be here.

In all honesty, he had spent a good amount of time after Matt had left, in the bathroom, dabbing at the blood on his face with a wet paper towel and seriously considering whether he should just ask Roger for a new partner. Of course he had immediately trashed that idea. Mello never backed down from anything and even if he did, he could just imagine Near making some little quip about his inability to deal with his emotions. Just the thought of it made Mello's blood boil.

And for some reason he couldn't fathom, Mello found that really, he didn't w_ant _to give up Matt as a partner. Matt's words from the day before sprang unbidden to his mind. _"__I don't __have __to work with you on this project but for some reason, Lord knows why, I like you."_ That was true enough. Mello had long grown used to the way the other children avoided him or shrank back under his stare. Matt didn't do that. Matt was a mystery, an enigma.

And he really needed to be taught not to fuck with Mello.

As Matt tore his gaze away from his DS to give Mello an inquisitive look, more of the Matt's words invaded Mello's mind. _"Hitting you is the literally the least I can if you keep making this project such a chore."_ Looking at Matt, in his ripped blue jeans and green t-shirt emblazoned with some video game logo or other, he didn't make a very threatening figure. For a second time, Mello shrugged the threat off. The boy had already punched him; what worse could he do?

Mello scowled as Matt raised an eyebrow at him. "So…," the redhead mused, taking a mouthful of toast from his half-empty plate, "…what's with the getup?"

Mello's reply was muffled by the black, knit scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. "I'm cold."

Matt's eyebrows nearly did a disappearing act into his unruly bangs. "It's May."

Mello flushed red, angry, but remained silent.

"And the shades?" Matt pressed.

Mello reached up and adjusted his sunglasses, pressing them firmly into place. "It's bright."

"We're indoors."

Without warning, Matt lunged across the table, snagging the glasses with one hand. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Mello's face.

Mello gave up the scarf for a lost cause and angrily pulled it off, tossing it onto the table and revealing his swollen split lip. Matt's eyes traveled up Mello's face slowly, taking in his lip, and the way the swelling continued up through his cheekbone to under his eye. "Damn," He whistled appreciatively. "I am _good._"

Mello, who had been expecting some form of apology, spluttered indignantly.

"I mean seriously," Matt continued. "And that wasn't even full force! I should be a boxer of something!"

Mello stayed silent, glaring.

"Ah, you're right," said Matt with a wave of his hand, "I could never be a boxer. Not with this gorgeous face. But you know what I have always wanted-"

Mello interrupted what he could sense might be quite a long ramble. "Listen. I'm here, okay? I came to your stupid family breakfast. You punched me in the face, but I still came. Are you really not even going to apologize?"

Matt sighed. "You're right Mello. I'll say I'm sorry… but only after you apologize to Peach." He gestured toward the egg, which was nestled on top of his bookbag.

Mello instinctually brought a hand up to his face, wincing as his fingers brushed bruised flesh. _"What? Apologize for what?"_

Matt looked at him incredulously. "For that!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Mello's plate. Or more specifically, at Mello's scrambled eggs. "Are you heartless? How could you eat that in front of her? It's like cannibalism! How would you feel if someone just came and sat in front of you and started cutting up a person and eating them?"

Without thinking, Mello replied, "Depends. Is that person Near?"

There was a slight pause, and then both boys burst out laughing. Almost immediately, however, Mello realized his mistake. "Hey," he said seriously over Matt's laughter. "Don't laugh. I'm still fucking pissed. _You _practically broke my face. This fucking hurts you know. And then you have the nerve to tell _me_ to apologize to the fucking egg for eating my breakfast? That's bullshit, and you know what? I don't have time to deal with it. So unless you're planning on saying sorry, I've got a quiz I'm going to fail if I don't study." And with that, Mello reached into his bag and pulled out a textbook, flipping it open to the middle and reading, all the while ignoring Matt and shoveling down forkfuls of scrambled eggs with emphasis.

There was silence for a moment, and then Matt said quietly, "I could help you if you think you're gonna fail."

Mello snorted derisively. "Yeah, okay. Unless you know how to form the perfect and pluperfect active subjunctive of first conjugation, than the best way you can help is to shut the hell up and let me concentrate.

Matt's reply was swift. "The perfect active subjunctive is identical to the future perfect active indicative form with the exception of first person singular and the pluperfect active subjunctive is formed using the perfect infinitive and personal endings."

Mello blinked and then rapidly flipped pages in his book. "Wait, that's right," he said after a few moments. He looked suspiciously at Matt, who had turned back to his plate. "How did you know that?" Mello knew for a fact that there were only five people, including himself and Near, in the Latin class at Wammy's.

Matt shrugged nonchalantly. "Just something I picked up one day."

Mello stared in disbelief. "_Just something you picked up one day? _You don't just pick up intermediate Latin, Matt."

"I'm smarter than I look okay?" He quickly changed the subject, picking up the egg and inspecting it closely. "So I've been thinking, we should really get Peach some clothes. I mean, it's okay for really little kids to run around naked, but she's getting to the age where it's a little indecent and-"

"I'm not even going to bother, because I'm pretty sure you know what my response is at this point," Mello muttered. Mercifully, the bell rang at that moment, signaling the ten minute warning for classes. "Thank God," Mello said, and then directed his words to Matt. "I'll see you in class, okay? Make sure to bring the egg so Roger can check it."

"Oh, about that…" Matt looked studiously at the ceiling. "I wasn't really planning on going to-"

"You're going to class," Mello said flatly, standing up and gathering his things, replacing his scarf and sunglasses. "As long as we're doing this project, you're going."

"But, I-" Matt begin to argue.

"No." Mello didn't give him time to respond. "You're going, got it? Good. If we're a family, then I refuse to be the only one having to sit through that hell." With that, he turned and walked swiftly out of the cafeteria.

His first class was Statistics but, unable to contain his growing curiosity, he made a quick stop by Roger's office. He found the ranking list on the bulletin board, and scanned it rapidly, his eyes blinking as he searched for a certain name.

There. He had glossed over it several times. Perhaps his mistake was that he was looking for it in the bottom. Of course he had never expected, never dreamed, of seeing that name so close to his. Matt's name.

Third. Matt was third. Mello backed away from the list, thinking furiously. How the hell was Matt third? He never went to class. He wasn't… It didn't seem…

But, as he thought about it, Matt _did_ seem smart enough. The small incidents began to add up in Mello's mind, the little sparks of a deeper intelligence that shone through to the surface of Matt's nonchalant attitude.

And suddenly, Mello was mad. He felt somehow… cheated. Sure, they hadn't started out on a good foot, but he thought they had gotten along okay at breakfast. But now…

Now Matt was the competition. Third was far, far too uncomfortable for Mello to deal with. Because third could quickly become second, and Mello couldn't stand to lose.

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**Reviews make me smile. Like a lot.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, normally I don't like to post chapters on the weekend, especially Sunday night, but I made you guys wait wayyyyyy too long for this chapter, so here it is. You're all amazing, dear readers.**

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Mello skidded into the classroom a scant few seconds before the bell rang. There was the usual hustle and bustle, kids sitting down and Roger was writing something on the board. He spotted Matt at a desk in the back row, long legs propped up on the seat in front of him, absorbed in his DS.

Squaring his shoulders and donning his best 'Do what I say or fucking die' face, Mello approached the boy in the seat next to Matt's and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" The boy turned, annoyed.

"Move," Mello said quietly, his eyes flashing.

"What? No, find your own seat," the boy snorted derisively.

"Do it," Mello said, and then added, "Now." His voice was low, deadly, and his expression clearly said that he would not hesitate to full light him on fire if he didn't give up his seat right fucking now.

"All right, all right," the boy finally muttered, standing and swinging his backpack up on one arm. As he moved away looking for another desk Mello heard him add 'fucker' under his breath. Mello suppressed a grin- he loved to intimidate people. He then frowned quickly; he still had other, important matters to address.

"Why didn't you tell me you were third?" he hissed at Matt as he slid into the recently vacated chair.

Matt shrugged, still concentrating on his game. "You didn't ask."

"But you still could have said something!"

"Why? Does it matter?"

"Yes! Of course it fucking matters!"

"Mello!" Roger barked sternly from the front of the room. "So sorry if my teaching is cutting into your socializing time. Now would you care to say the rest of your thoughts aloud for the class or shall I continue?"

Mello slid down a few inches in his seat, his ears burning. A few of the students snickered as Roger turned and continued writing on the board.

"Now, I trust," the gray haired man dotted a final i and turned again to stare at the class, "that you've all been taking good care of your eggs. I've written the final due date for your paperwork, including your egg journals, on the board. That part should be fairly simple enough. And now if you would all please get out your eggs, I'll walk around and check that everything is in working order."

"Um… Roger, I have a question." A boy near the front of the room raised his hand tentatively. His partner, Xanthe, clapped a hand over her face and groaned.

"Yes, Jordan?"

"What if, hypothetically, we left our egg on a window sill and it fell and broke?"

Roger sighed. "Which floor would this hypothetical window be located on?"

"… Fourth?"

"Well then," Roger said, "I believe that, hypothetically, you have smashed your way into a failing grade for this project."

Roger sighed again and his features softened for an instant. "Come talk to me after class, you two. And please, the rest of you," he addressed the entire class, "if you wouldn't put a baby somewhere, don't put your egg there. I expect no more unfortunate incidents."

Mello turned his head to watch Matt carefully remove Peach from the pocket of his sweatshirt as Roger began inspecting the eggs in the front row. "I just don't get it," he muttered.

"Get what?" asked Matt. He made a barricade between a notebook and two erasers and carefully lowered Peach into place before firmly reattaching his thumbs to his DS.

"How could you be third? You're so…," Mello struggled to come up with a word. Failing, he snapped, "At least look at me when I talk to you!" He deftly plucked the blue electronic from Matt's hands.

"Hey!" Matt looked up, eyes blazing. "That's the second time you've done that it's getting old. My Starly was just about to evolve!"

"See," Mello hissed. "This is exactly what I mean! You're so-"

"So what?" Matt snapped, real anger flaring in his whisper. "So stupid? No," he said as Mello spluttered, trying to say something. "I know exactly what you mean. Now let me go ahead and fill you in on a few things Mello. The reason I'm _only_ third is because I think class is a waste of time, I'm fairly certain homework gives me narcolepsy, and sometimes, just to fuck with the teachers, I answer all the questions on my tests with little drawings of anthromorphized mushrooms. All that and I'm s_till_ third. So now, Mello, can you answer a question of mine? How much do you like being second? Cause I could change that real fucking fast."

Mello started to yell, not bothering to keep his voice down. "Is this the threat you were talking about the other day? You fucking-"

"Mello!" Mello yanked his eyes upward. Roger was standing in front of his desk, lips pressed sternly into a thin line. "Go wait for me in my office. We can discuss your behavior in this class."

Seething, Mello quickly collected his things and marched towards the door, meeting anyone's eyes who looked at him with a gaze full of pure venom. As he reached the door of the classroom, he felt something small and light strike his back. He glanced down and spotted a balled up piece of paper near his left foot. He snatched it up and turned quickly out of the classroom and into the hallway. Leaning against a nearby bulletin board, he smoothed out the paper and stared at it. Two lines in Matt's untidy scrawl covered it.

'_Here's another question for you: How much do you think Near likes being first?'_

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**I hope you guys liked this (shorter than it should be) chapter! Reviews make me happy, like woah. Haha. But seriously, drop me a line and let me know what you think about the developing plot! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Since the last chapter was short, I thought a quick update would be nice. Mk, I know I said to a few of you that the next chapter would be longer, but the original idea for that chapter was scrapped and I ended up with this instead. Since I wanted to end the chapter at a natural stopping point, it's not as long as I would like. Also, to the person who noticed I made a mistake on the last chapter (Xanthe is supposed to be Near's partner!), thanks for pointing htat out!**

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Mello sat slumped in the chair in Roger's office, arms crossed tightly over his chest, face set in a defiant expression. The office was wood-paneled and dignified. Two floor to ceiling bookshelves lined the wall on either side, and any other time Mello would have been itching to take a look at the intriguing tiitles. A large desk made of dark wood sat in front of the intricately patterned window, and it was on the other side of this desk that Mello now waited for Roger to finish class and come speak to him.

It really wasn't fair. Matt- that bastard- had been talking just as much, if not more, than he had. So he had raised his voice _a little_… Matt had threatened him! … Or at least, he thought it was a threat. It had left him with a definite feeling of unease, that was for sure.

'_How much do you like being second?'_ It was a loaded question. For all intents and purposes, Mello _didn't_ like being second. The fact that he was only second best pained him on a daily basis. But what was Matt saying? That he would take Mello's spot? _No way_, thought Mello fiercely. _No fucking way I'll be pushed to third._

He uncrossed his arms and smoothed out the paper Matt had thrown at him against his leg, and read it for what might have been the fiftieth time in the last five minutes. '_Here's another question for you: How much do you think Near likes being first?' _The hastily scrawled lines sent fireworks of questions through Mello's brain. Did Matt honestly mean to say that he could beat Near? The thought brought a slight smile to Mello's lips, but with the next question, it died away. If Matt did manage to beat Near, where did that leave Mello? Still fucking third.

But Mello still hadn't even begun to address the most important question of all: Why the hell was Matt doing this? Things had been going along just fine until he had decided to waltz in and fuck it all up. _Well to be fair, _Mello corrected himself begrudgingly, _Matt hadn't really waltzed in… In fact Mello had kind of dragged him in._

Mello balled his fists, crunching the little piece of paper in the process. This whole situation made him mad. He didn't know who to blame, and he had an unfortunate inkling that in the end he might have to blame himself.

The door creaked open behind him and Mello hastily shoved the paper into his pocket and then refolded his arms. He said nothing as Roger made his way around the desk and sat across from him, meeting the older man's eyes with a hardened gaze. Roger looked back at him unflinchingly and then folded his hands on the desktop and spoke, "Mello, I could spend this time asking why you insist on acting like a petulant child even though you're nearly sixteen, but I'm already certain I won't get a satisfactory answer. I'm an intelligent man and I recognize a losing battle when I see one. Instead," he leaned forward a bit over the desk, "I am going to ask you, for once in your life, to hold your tongue and listen."

Mello glowered at him, but didn't speak. "Good," Roger said, apparently satisfied with Mello's silence. The older man leaned back a bit in his chair and continued to speak. "Now I've thought long and hard about how best to manage your behavioral problems over the years Mello, and I've finally come to a conclusion. I can't and I don't want to. So if you want, you have my full permission to continue acting like a spoiled brat until you're eighteen, and can leave this place."

Mello's eyebrows shot so far up they disappeared into his bangs. Of all the things he had been expecting to come out of Roger's mouth, that certainly wasn't one of them.

"However," Roger said, calmly noting Mello's surprised expression, "There are two things I think you should know first. Two pieces of information that may be vital to your continued high performance in this institution." Mello almost leaned forward in interest, but caught himself just in time. He studiously maintained his uncaring demeanor while Roger continued. "Normally, I wouldn't make this information available to you, but at this point, I feel I don't have a choice." He looked pointedly at Mello. "How do you think that the issue of succession is dealt with by L? How does he choose his successor?"

"Rank," Mello answered in spite of himself. He quickly clamped his mouth shut.

"Ah," Roger replied, "You're partially right. And that's the first thing I want to tell you. That, ultimately, rank will not be the only thing deciding who becomes the next L."

"No," said Mello, sitting up straight in near-anger. "It's rank. That's how it's decided. Number one becomes the next L. That's what you've told us since we were little."

"Yes," Roger waved a hand dismissively. "That is what I've told you. But it's not how it's actually done."

"So you lied to us?"

"Yes. There's no point tiptoeing around it. Yes, I lied to you. But," he held up a finger to silence him as Mello began to retort, "I did it for a reason. L doesn't just need the person with the highest test scores to succeed him. He needs that person to have other, important qualities. Things that can't be tested on a piece of paper. Things like empathy, awareness…" He fixed Mello with another hard stare. "The ability to make relationships with other people. Things that would be more difficult to judge if you all knew we were watching for them. So yes, I lied ."

Roger sighed heavily. "And that brings me to my second piece of information, Mello. I made you Matt's partner on this project because Matt came to me and specifically requested you beforehand."

"Why?" Mello was confused. Matt had given no indication of any such arrangement before.

"I don't know," Roger replied. "But I was glad he did, because Mello, I was already having a hard time figuring out who to partner you with, that wouldn't demand to be switched, or show up crying at my office door two hours later."

"I'm not-" Mello began but Roger cut him off.

"Yes, you are, Mello. You're a brilliant young man, there's no denying that. You're one of the brightest we've ever had here. But- you are just like Near in this regard- you have little to no ability to form meaningful relationships to others. And in the end, you have to remember that L won't just be basing his decision on some grade on a piece of paper, but on you- the whole package. And now I'll leave you this, make of it what you will: Matt a_sked_ to work with you. Why don't you put aside this ridiculous behavior and actually try to get along with him. This project could literally go a long way towards deciding your future."

Mello sat in complete silence, absorbing Roger's words. A million thoughts rushed around his head, each more confusing than the last. When Roger dismissed him with a wave of his hand towards the door, Mello said nothing, only gathered his things and walked briskly into the hallway.

And before he knew it, or knew what to make of it, his feet were leading through the twisting hallways, to Matt's room.

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**Thanks for reading! Please be awesome and leave a review. Let me know what you think about the story so I can keep improving it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Happy Sunday, y'all. Have a chapter. And look at that: it's even longer like I said it would be!**

**Random announcement: If anyone's ever read my one-shot Debasement, there's now some artwork for it on my profile. I wasn't sure where else to post this... and also the artist threatened to kick me if I didn't say something about it. Haha**

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There was no light coming from under Matt's door but Mello knocked anyway, figuring there was no other place the redhead would really be, so he must be home. He waited for several seconds, foot tapping impatiently against the floor, but there was no answer. He placed his ear against the door and listened. There was a faint sound- televised explosions and electronic snatch of music followed by a muttered expletive. He pulled his head away and knocked again, vigorously. He was just about to voice his displeasure at being ignored, when the door swung inward.

"For the last time, Linda, I told you I'm not going to- Oh, it's you." Matt's lean face stared at him from inside the dark room, squinting a bit in the bright strip of light coming from the hallway. His face brightened considerably when he realized it was Mello standing outside his door. "Did you come to get Peach?"

"Forget about the stupid egg!" Mello said agitatedly. He crossed his arms. "We need to talk. I have some questions for you."

Matt cocked his head to the side, questioning, and then, as if a realization had just come to him, he sighed and said, "Roger told you then, I suppose?" Mello nodded. Matt sighed again and beckoned him into the room. "Get inside." The redhead looked furtively from side to side as Mello slid in through the narrow opening. "I'm not really supposed to let the other kids see my room."

"What? Why?" But Mello's question was answered as soon as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room. All the overhead lights were off, but the room was lit by the faint blue glow of a half-dozen computers that lined the far wall; one had numbers scrolling rapidly across the screen, while another blinked an error message repeatedly. Matt's bed was unmade and clothes were scattered around carelessly. In fact, the only thing free of clutter was a small shelf where dozens of video games were lined up neatly, beneath a TV that had cables snaking out the book to the floor where several game consoles sat.

"It took a fuckton of begging," said Matt as he sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up a game controller, hands immediately attacking the buttons while the sounds that Mello had heard from outside the door resumed, "but Roger finally let me get this sweet setup."

Mello eyed the computers. He had never been one for technology. He just didn't like anything that he wouldn't be affected by his best death glare if it didn't do exactly what he wanted. "What for?" he asked. "What do you do with it?"

Matt paused before answering with a vague, "What _don't_ I do with it?"

Mello raised an eyebrow. "Anything illegal?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

"You're not a magician. That made no sense." Mello was starting to get impatient again. He had come for answers. The inside of Matt's room had distracted him momentarily, but now the burning desire to know exactly what the fuck was going on was back. "Now tell me-" he began, his voice louder than necessary.

"Oh, so we're back to the yelling?" Matt interrupted calmly, pausing his game and looking at Mello with a deadpan expression.

"Yeah, if that's what it takes!" Mello responded angrily. "I want some real answers. I'm tired of this cryptic bullshit already. What did you mean by this?" He pulled the now extremely wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket and waved it in Matt's face. "And what did Roger mean, you asked for me? Why?"

Matt stared at him, his expression indecipherable for several long seconds. The only sounds in the room came from the whirring of various pieces of electronics, and Mello's shallow breathing. And then a wide grin split Matt's face, and the look was so very… _Matt_ that Mello was almost compelled to take a few steps back.

"Okay, Mello," said Matt brightly, tossing the controller aside and standing up. "I promise that I will answer all your questions, but in return, you have to do something for me."

Mello narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "What?" he asked quickly. This was treading on dangerous ground. He didn't like to make deals with anybody. Being bound by obligation seemed a very undesirable thing to Mello; he much preferred to be tied to no person in particular.

But then again… wasn't this exactly what Roger had warned him about? Inability to connect with other people, a lack of real, human relationships. But if Roger thought he was going to start by being friends with Matt, than he could just go fuck himself. He would get the information he needed from the redhead, they would finish the project, and that would be it. In the meantime, Mello figured he would reason out a way to show that he could form a real relationship…somehow.

"You have to go out with me," Matt replied, eyes dancing in mirth.

"What?" Mello spluttered, unable to retain his placid mask. "I will not- I refuse- You're not-"

Matt's eyebrows shot up, and he spoke slowly, as if to a small child. "To town. You have to go out with me to town."

Mello breathed deeply. "Oh, I – I mean-,"

"Yeahhh, sure," Matt replied, eyeing him. "I'm just gonna pretend that didn't happen."

Mello nodded. He could feel his cheeks burning, and was suddenly glad the room was so dark. He didn't want to give Matt the satisfaction of seeing him so flustered.

"So," Matt said, obviously choking back a bit of a laugh. "Shall we go then?" He strode over to the computers and made a few quick keystrokes. The screens blinked out simultaneously, and the room was plunged into near-total darkness, only the TV screen shedding blue light. Matt walked past it, grabbing Peach off his bedside table and tucking her securely in his pocket. Mello followed him wordlessly and watched as Matt locked the door of the room and then double-checked it. "Security," Matt muttered when he noticed Mello watching.

The two boys said nothing to each other as they made their way through Wammy's; first the newer, fluorescent-lit part that housed the dormitories, and then into the older, lofty-ceilinged, wood-paneled entrance hall. A teacher by the front doors reminded them about curfew as they left, and they nodded back at him in reassurance that yes, they would be back in time.

The sun was sinking fast behind the trees and twilight was setting in as they exited the building. The air was warm and slightly humid, come nightfall it might even turn a bit chilly if the wind blew, especially out in the middle of nowhere, like Wammy's. The orphanage was surrounded on three side by thick trees, not large enough to be a forest, but not small enough to just be foliage. A tall, wrought-iron fence intricately wound its way around the property, with a heavy, swinging gate marking the front entrance.

It was out that gate, and up the long, winding drive that they walked in silence until they reached the carport, where four innocuous, black cars waited. There, Matt laughingly greeted one of the drivers by name and within minutes they were comfortably in the backseat, on the way into town.

Wammy's was in a beautiful- but isolated- area, and the drive to town was a bit over half an hour so Mello had time to think, and there was plenty for him to think about. He didn't know why, but it irked him, the way Matt had so casually greeted the driver, laughed with him, and the man had laughed back. Mello didn't know the names of any of the drivers; they were always just there, provided as a commodity for the children, like the cafeteria, or the research library. What was Matt out doing, that he had time to get to know the man so well?

Mello gritted his teeth. More and more, Matt's uncaring attitude about rank pissed him off. He was smart, that was obvious the more time Mello spent around him. But then why? Why did he treat rank like it was nothing? Why was he so content with third when Mello spent every day of his life working his ass off to avoid being second? And why- _why_- had Matt asked for him as a partner?

Matt was a puzzle, and if there was one thing in this world that Mello hated besides Near- it was fucking puzzles.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the bubbling rage that was building up in his stomach like noxious acid. The countryside whisked by the car window, fields and tiny houses eventually giving way to concrete and storefronts.

The town wasn't large by any means; a population of just a few thousand. Occasionally, the staff of Wammy's would take all the kids on a field trip; a particularly unsuccessful attempt to take them all to see a production of Hamlet came to mind, complete with missing children and a steep fine for destruction of public property. Mello never spent much time there; he was always too absorbed in his studies and nothing really interested him there, but he knew that a few of the other kids went often. And so did Matt too, it appeared.

The car slowed to a stop in front of a small shopping center. Mello blinked and looked at Matt, wondering. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Matt replied, before tugging open his door. The driver gave Matt a small wave and said he'd be waiting, and like the teacher, reminded them about curfew.

Mello followed suit and got out the car. He glanced around. He had never been here before, and he didn't think he heard any of the other kid's talking about any of the store names he could see. "Seriously Matt," he said, growing impatient. "Why did you have him bring us here? Where did you want to go?"

Matt clapped a hand down each on Mello's shoulders and turned him in a small semi-circle. Mello shrugged his shoulders violently and brushed Matt's hands off. Matt either didn't notice, or didn't care, taking it all in stride and pointing excitedly across the square.

"There," he said.

Mello looked, and then stared at Matt incredulously. "Seriously, Matt? A fucking toy store?"

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**Did you like it? Hate it? Let me knowwww in a review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**To make up for the longer wait, this chapter is a bit longer!**

**And by the way, what happened to all the humor in this story? Did it fall out the hole?**

**No, but seriously. This story was originally supposed to be a five-chapter, cute little short story. Then one night it developed a plot, woke me up, and punched me in the face with it. So tell me guys, do you like the plot, or do you wish I had kept it simple and funny?**

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"A toy store?" Mello repeated incredulously, staring at the marquee. The letters were large, a ridiculously rounded, bubbly font in neon colors. Mello blinked hard, hoping it would go away- or at least become less horribly happy looking.

"Yes, my dear uptight Mello." Matt's grin was triumphant. "_A fucking toy store."_

Mello exhaled loudly, annoyed, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I mean, it's all well and good if _you _want to look like a raging idiot, but do you have to drag _me_ down with you?"

"Duh."

Mello looked from Matt's gleeful expression to the screaming bright storefront and it was like something inside him collapsed. The tight, near-constant bubble of anger in his chest deflated and he sighed heavily. "Okay."

"Okay?" Matt's voice was disbelieving.

L, Near, Roger's words; they all flashed through Mello's mind in an instant. "Okay," he repeated firmly.

Matt's grin couldn't have been bigger. But then again, Mello was beginning to think that might just be how the redhead looked naturally. He could count the number of times he had seen Matt's face in any expression less than amusement on one hand. He wondered briefly what it must be like- to be that happy all the time- before he was yanked wrist-first across the parking lot.

"Come on," Matt urged, tugging on his arm like an impatient toddler. "We've only got an hour if we're going to get back before curfew."

Mello glanced up as Matt half-drug him to the store. The shopping center had a tall column in the center, with a large clockface on each of the four sides. Matt was right; it was just past six-thirty. Figuring in the half-hour ride back to Wammy's, they had just under an hour to do… whatever the hell it was Matt needed to do at a toy store on a Thursday night anyway. As Mello watched, streetlights flickered to life around the center as the remaining daylight began to fail. Night had been coming earlier; winter was approaching.

A bell tinkled loudly as Matt pushed the door of the store open and finally let go of Mello's arm. Mello adjusted his sleeve, more out of habit than anything, and looked around the brightly light space. Toys and games crowded every inch of the shelves and primary colors seemed to burst out of every corner. His lip curled involuntarily; it was too colorful, too… ugh. A little girl ran past them, shrieking with laughter as her mother followed her wearily. Mello cringed. "Can we just hurry up with whatever you need to do and get out of here?"

"Seriously, Mello, you gotta loosen up a bit," Matt said with mock exasperation. "Where's your sense of fun."

"I don't have one," Mello said flatly.

"That's obvious." Matt shrugged slightly, and then turned his attention to a corner of the store and pointed. "There. That's where we need to go."

Mello eyed it suspiciously. Every item in that area either featured curly, cutesy script or was an alarming shade of eye-popping pink. Or both, in some cases. "Um," he said warily, "I don't know if you've been repressing some sort of deep-seated feminine side, Matt, but I'm pretty sure this isn't something I wanna be around for. So I'll just-"

"Oh calm down." Matt laughed and reached into his pocket. "It's not for me, it's for Peach." He pulled out the egg and inspected it with an almost-loving expression. "I told you, I think she's getting entirely too old to be running around naked."

"We've had that egg for like, five days, Matt."

"That could be ages in egg years!"

"What?"

"Just come help me out," Matt said, tucking Peach safely back into his jacket pocket.

"Ugh," Mello groaned, but allowed himself to be led to the corner and down an aisle filled floor to ceiling with every sort of doll imaginable. Matt immediately pulled on down and inspected it, detaching it's purple skirt carefully. "You're aware that you look like some sort of weird, sad little pedophile, right?" Mello asked, arms folded again- only this time it was more to make sure he didn't accidently touch anything.

"Perfect aware, thanks," Matt replied, without looking up. "What do you think of this?" He held up the miniature purple skirt.

"It's fine?" Mello really couldn't muster up the ability to give a fuck about clothes for an egg. At that moment, a mother and child passed the aisle. The woman's looked disapprovingly at Matt, who had started undressing another doll. Mello's felt his an embarrassed flush began to creep up his neck, and his ears started to burn. "Can we leave now, Matt?"

"Not until you start acting like you care about our daughter, Mello. Now do you like this one better?" This time it was a green skirt, with little pink and yellow stars.

Mello threw his hands up in exasperation. "The green one, I guess," he muttered.

"Green one it is, then," Matt declared and threw both dolls back on the shelf. He pulled Peach out of his pocket and slipped the tiny skirt onto the egg. "There," he said happily. "Doesn't she look nice?"

"It looks like an egg in a skirt," Mello replied. "There are many words for that, and nice isn't one of them. Stupid and psychotic, maybe, but not nice."

Matt sighed. "And once again, your lack of ability not to take yourself so fucking seriously astounds me. Oh well." He slipped Peach back into his pocket once again. "Let's go."

"You're not gonna pay for that?" Mello asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No."

As they left the store, Matt waved cheerfully to the employee behind the counter, who gave him an odd look in return. For a moment, Mello almost admired Matt's ballsy attitude- almost. Then he reminded himself how very fucking annoying Matt was- except when he wasn't, that is. _But that,_ Mello reminded himself, _is almost never. I could never be friends with a guy this annoying. I'll find another way to show Roger- and L- that I'm the best choice for succession._

It was now fully night time outside, and Mello shivered a bit in the cool air. Matt noticed and gestured for him to follow. "Come on," he said. "We still have some time. There's a little coffee place a few shops down."

"Wait." Matt turned around, and looked at Mello inquisitively. "I went with you to the fucking toy store. Now you have to keep up your end of the deal. I want some answers."

Matt sighed. "Can we at least go sit down? I said I'd answer your questions, and I don't go back on my promises."

"Fine," Mello muttered and followed the redhead. Matt led him to a small, cozy café. The smell of freshly ground coffee beans and a hint of vanilla lingered in the air.

"Want something?" Matt asked.

"I don't like coffee. Too bitter." Mello sat down in an overstuffed armchair beside a small table as Matt walked briskly to the counter and ordered. He looked around the small space; aside from a man in the corner who was clicking away on his laptop, they were the only other customers in the shop. The lighting was warm and low, and a gentle new age melody played softly in the background.

"Here." Mello looked up, startled from his thoughts, as Matt slid a cup in front of him. "It's iced and flavored, so it's a lot sweeter than normal coffee." He sat in the chair across from Mello, taking a swig from his own steaming mug.

Mello eyed the pale brown liquid, and took a tentative sip. The bitter, coffee taste he detested was still there, but it was layered with a sweet, vanilla flavor. He took another sip and then set it back down on the table, the ice clicking softly. "Why did you request me to be your partner?" he asked suddenly.

Matt stared down into his drink, thinking, and then answered with another question. "Why do you want to be number one so badly?"

"To beat Near."

Matt winced. "Is that all?"

"Yes." Mello thought for a moment, and then corrected himself. "To succeed L."

"But why?"

"Because…," Mello trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Is it because it's what _you_ want? Or is it what _they _want for you?"

Mello frowned. "No. I want it."

"Are you sure," Matt asked, setting down his drink and leaning forward, looking Mello dead in the eyes. "It's what you were raised to want. It's the only future you've ever known. They've manufactured you to think that way. The teachers, Roger, L…"

"No," said Mello more forcefully. "No, you're wrong. I want it, because it's what I want. Not because anyone else decided it for me. My future is my own."

Matt took a long, appraising look at Mello, and then- surprisingly- a look of relief seemed to wash over his face. "That's good to hear," he said, leaning back and picked up his drink once more. "I was scared for awhile you might be like all the others. They do a good job of erasing personalities at Wammy's. But they haven't gotten you."

Mello scrunched his brow in confusion. "Why did you request me to be your partner?" he asked again.

Again, Matt evaded the question, irking Mello. "Did you know I'm originally from America?" he asked.

The off-handed remark surprised Mello. "So?" he replied. Indeed, it was true that between all the children at the house, almost every continent of the world was represented in some way or another. "Drake was born in Australia. What they hell does that have to do with why you wanted me to be your partner?"

"I don't want it," Matt muttered, and the ever-present smile slipped from his face, leaving him somber. The sight chilled Mello more than the iced drink.

"Want what?"

"I don't want to be L. That's why I'm third, Mello. I don't want to succeed L."

The thought seemed incomprehensible to Mello. "Why not?"

"I'm the flaw in their perfect system," Matt said, a touch of bitterness in his voice now. "I was a mistake. Watari and Roger, they both know it. That's how I got all those computers. All that stuff to keep me quiet; so I wouldn't go around making havoc in their house of geniuses. Can't let the other kids know that it's possible to _not_ want to be L."

"Wha-" Mello was confused, to say the least.

"I was too old," Matt continued. "That's probably where they went wrong. Or maybe I would have turned out like this anyway, who knows. You were what? Four, five, when they brought you here?"

Mello shrugged, uncertain. "I was ten. I lived in the outside world long enough to know that there's more. More than their ranking system, more than the dream of being a detective who hides behind false identities for the rest of my life. I still had family, too. Did you know that?"

Mello shook his head no, eyes locked on Matt.

"I do," the redhead said. "An uncle and an aunt. In the states. But they didn't stand a chance against Wammy's, once this place got a hold of my test scores." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "I'd love to see exactly how fucked that legal battle was." Matt sighed. "You're probably wondering why the hell I'm telling you all this."

He looked at Mello and Mello saw something dark, and dangerous in his eyes for a split second before it was gone, and he wondered if he had simply imagined it. "I don't want to be L. Hell, I don't even really believe in justice, not like you and Near do. But…," and now the smile was back, "I'm bored. I don't want to just sit around and wait until I can leave this place. And you're not like all the others. You're not a robot, you have life, and personality, and a wicked temper." He grinned and for a second Mello almost thought he looked manic. "I want to stir things up. I want to help you beat Near."

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**Matt is deeply unhappy with Wammy's. Good thing he's got such a good happy mask.**

**Reviews?**


	10. Chapter 10

**I apologize in advance for the cheesiness. I just... Iamsogoddamntired.**

**Also... guys, GUYS, seriously, why has no one called me out on my _severe lack of continuity _in this story? I just re-read it, and apparently not only can I not decide who's partner Xanthe is, I also don't know the meaning of a week, or what time of year it is. -.- I will fix this soon.**

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"You want to what?"said Mello.

"I want to help you beat Near," Matt repeated eagerly. His face was open and earnest. The coffee sloshed over the side of the cup he was holding and several beads of the hot liquid trailed down his hand, leaving red streaks, but Matt didn't appear to notice. "It'll be easy. I can tutor you, and if that doesn't work, we can-"

"I don't need your fucking help," Mello said, his voice cold.

"But-," Matt began to protest but Mello cut him off.

"I don't need your help." When Matt opened his mouth again, Mello spoke even louder. "What did you think I'd just fall down on my knees, and worship the ground you walk on for this? _Oh Matt,_" he used a sappy, shrill voice. "_How could I ever do this without you? Thank you for taking pity on a poor, hopeless idiot like me."_

"That's not what I meant-"

"Bullshit, that's not what you meant," Mello accused. "What, you thought you could just waltz in and help poor, dumb Mello?"

"No, I just-"

"Yeah, well fuck you, Matt." Mello stood angrily, staring icy daggers at Matt. "You can take your offer and shove it up your ass for all I care." He turned and began to head for the door, not caring where he was going to go. All he knew was that he wanted to get as far away from Matt as possible.

"No!" Matt's plea was so unexpectedly loud that Mello couldn't help himself- he paused and then pivoted around. In seconds, Matt had crossed the short distance between them. He grabbed Mello's forearm, desperately. His eyes were wild, searching, and his face was an unreadable mix of emotions. He had thrown his coffee down on the table, the cup had tipped, and the brown liquid was dripping rapidly down the side and pooling on the floor.

"No," he repeated, quieter this time. "Just- don't, okay? Don't leave." He glanced quickly around the small shop. Mello did the same. The man in the corner was sneaking furtive looks across the top of his laptop, his fingers no longer clacking away at the keyboard. The lone employee behind the counter wasn't even bothering to hide his interest in their conversation. "Let's get out of here," Matt whispered suddenly.

"I don't-," Mello began, but the words had barely left his mouth when Matt tugged violently on his arm. The redhead pulled him forward, and broke into a run. The iron grip on Mello's arm didn't cease, and he had no choice but to follow as Matt practically ran to the back door.

"Hey!" the employee shouted out. "You can't go out that way! It's not allowed! I'm gonna-," but whatever the employee was going to do, they didn't get to hear as the door thudded shut behind them. They emerged into a darkly lit alley. Skirting around a set of dumpsters and a few empty boxes, Matt quickly led them out of it, and behind the shopping strip proper. They walked quickly and without speaking, putting more distance between themselves and the coffee shop, until five minutes of walking later, Matt halted without warning, and released his vice-like grip on Mello's arm. He had stopped them in an empty lot on the edge of supermarket that was closed for the evening. One of the overhead lights was flickering, casting staccato shadows against the cracking pavement, which was shot through with little tufts of tenacious weeds and grass.

Mello immediately rounded on Matt, eyes sparking furiously. "What the _fuck_ was that about? Why did you drag me out here?"

"Sorry," Matt shrugged, unapologetic. "Had to go out the back. Didn't want David to see us." Matt glanced at the night sky. The half-moon was still low but bright, and stars were beginning to appear against the velvet blue background. "I'd say it's almost time for curfew. He's probably out looking for us now." He winced. "I hope this doesn't get him in trouble."

"Who the hell is David?" Mello's mouth was set in a firm line, his jaw tight.

Matt raised one eyebrow at him, disbelieving. "David? You know… the driver?" Mello shrugged. "Jesus, Mello, the same four guys have worked as drivers at Wammy's for years. You could at least learn their names. You're not the only person in the goddamned universe, you know."

"I never said that."

"But you thought it."

"No, I didn't."

"_Nullius culpae mihi conscius sum,"_ Matt murmured, almost under his breath.

Mello gave a short, sharp laugh before he could stop himself. "Isn't that true for everybody though?"

Matt thought for a second, and then admitted ruefully, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"But seriously," Matt said, examining the stained asphalt before sitting down. The redhead sat cross-legged; he propped his arms behind himself and leaned back, staring up at the sky while talking. "Maybe you don't think you're the only person that matters, but you sure as hell don't acknowledge anyone else. And don't try to deny it," he said quickly when he saw Mello about to retort, "You know it's true."

Mello took a deep breath and dropped to the ground next to Matt. "Whatever," he muttered, poking at a few stray rocks with his finger. "Why the fuck should you care anyway?"

"Cause it's fucking irritating!" Matt said forcefully. Mello looked up in surprise. "You stomp around the damn house, obsessed with scores and rankings and Near, and never once do you pay attention to what's around you. You never even stop to think about the other people there. Sure, most of them might be annoying, or condescending douchebags, but you don't know that. I do, because I actually talk to them. I mean, Jesus Christ Mello, months of trying to get your attention, and I finally had to resort to _Roger _to pair us up on a project. That's just lame. I'd like to think I'm at least a little bit more noticeable than that."

"But why? I still don't get why wanted to be my partner so badly? What, are you just a glutton for punishment or something?" Mello asked, before remembering that he was still mad at Matt for his previous offer. He clamped his mouth shut quickly, setting his jaw and staring stonily at the ground. Matt apparently took no notice of this, however.

"I already told you," he answered, casting his eyes upwards again, perhaps searching out some barely-visible constellation. "You're interesting. Unpredictable. People are so boring. I don't like boring. I want a challenge."

"I'm not-"

"_- a fucking challenge for you to figure out, Matt," _Matt finished for him in a mocking voice. "Yeah, I know. But can you blame me for trying?"

Mello scowled and kept his eyes trained on the ground. "What's in it for you?"

"What?"

"You expect me to believe that you went to all the trouble to be my partner, that you want to help me beat Near, all because you're _bored."_

"Yeah," Matt met him in a straight-on stare. "I do. Why would I make that up? Look," he said exasperatedly, changing his tactic when Mello didn't react. "Is it so hard to just trust me, Mello? What have I done to make you think otherwise?" Mello pointed silently to the still-dark bruise marring his eye. Matt chuckled uncomfortably. "Okay, besides that, what have I done?"

There was a long pause and then, "Nothing," Mello admitted. "I just- if you wanted to be around me or some shit like that why wait til now? Why go to all the trouble of this stupid project?"

Matt tilted his head in thought. "Would you really wanna just randomly come up and talk to you? I mean, really," he said when Mello narrowed his eyes. "Admit it, you're kind of a jerk to… well, everyone."

"Then why do you want-," Mello began. Matt drowned out the rest of his sentence with a massive groan, flopping back on the ground and resting a forearm over his eyes.

"Jesus Christ, Mello, I feel like we're talking in circles. Do you ever get sick of being so stubborn? Just… trust me on this, okay? Let me be your friend. Forget I ever said anything about helping you beat Near. Just… let me be your friend."

Mello's answer was quiet. "…Okay."

Matt's familiar grin split his face, and Mello almost found himself thinking that he had missed it, when suddenly Matt's hand shot up and dragged him to the ground. "

"What the-" Mello began.

"Shhh," Matt prompted. "Just lay here and for once in your life, shut your mouth."

Mello bit the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting sarcastically. He gave up trying to fight Matt's grip and relaxed against the pavement; Matt's hand loosened but didn't leave his arm. The ground still retained some residual warmth from the day, and Mello could feel bits of rocks and concrete poking his back through his thin t-shirt. A few minutes passed, during which Mello was acutely aware of the sound of traffic from a nearby road, and a lone bird that chirped in the distance.

"Um…," he began, when the wait had become uncomfortable. "What the hell are we doing, Matt?"

"We are meditating," Matt replied. Mello glanced over at him. He was still laying on his back, eyes closed. "We're getting in touch with nature, or our inner selves… or whatever the hell you're supposed to get in touch with when you meditate."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a few more seconds and then, "This is really stupid, Matt."

Matt sighed heavily. "It really is, isn't it?" And then at the same time, both boys broke up laughing. The laughter felt as if it soothed away the tension of the past few hours. Mello closed his eyes too. Matt's hand was still warm on his arm.

"Hippie bullshit," he muttered, but with a slight smile.

Matt laughed again. "But it's nice though, isn't it?" he asked. "It's still nice to just lay down sometimes, and not think about anything."

"Yeah," Mello agreed. "I guess it is. But this doesn't change everything, you know that right? I still don't want your help beating Near."

"I know," Matt said.

"Good."

Mello fell silent, concentrating on the slight breeze ruffling his hair and the gentle touch of Matt's hand on his skin, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

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**Bahaha that was so cheesy pleasedon'tshootme**

**I love all of you dear readers. You make it worth the head-pounding-on-keyboard frustration. Reviews?**


	11. Chapter 11

**You guys wanted longer chapters... well here you go. This chapter though... whyyyyyyyyyy. Ihatethischaptersomuch.**

**You get it early and superlong cause I'm going out of town this weekend. So enjoy.**

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Mello awoke slowly, emerging from sleep like a swimmer struggling up from the bottom of a deep pool. The cold water felt soothing against his skin and… wait, water?

Mello's eyes snapped open. He was now fully awake and very aware that he was lying flat on his back in an empty parking lot that was quickly becoming wet with rain. He sat up quickly, shaking little rivulets of water from his face. His hair was a sodden, heavy mess, stray blonde strands sticking to his forehead and cheeks. Beside him, Matt slumbered on peacefully, slack-jawed and snoring slightly, apparently undisturbed by the rain.

"Matt," Mello hissed, tapping the sleeping boy lightly on the forehead. "Matt," he repeated loudly, and tapped him harder. The redhead's only response was to shift slightly and grumble something unintelligible under his breath.

"Christ," Mello muttered to himself before leaning over and shouting into Matt's ear. "Matt!"

"Wha-," Matt sat up suddenly, smacking the top of his head directly into Mello's face.

"Fuck!" Mello cried, grabbing his nose. His face was already bruised from being punched by Matt earlier that week and the hit battered the already tender flesh. The sudden, sharp pain in his nose sent a slow, throbbing ache through his head, spreading across his cheekbones and branching out into his skull. A sluggish trickle of blood leaked out between his fingers, only to be washed away by the rain that was beginning to fall harder now.

"Ughh," Matt groaned, rubbing the top of his head through his nearly-soaked, red tresses, "that hurt."

"Oh," Mello said scathingly, narrowing his eyes at the other boy. "_So sorry_if my face got in the way of your thick skull."

"Eh." Matt stopped rubbing his head and waved his hand nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure it could have happened to anyone. Just be more careful next time." He grinned.

Mello glared. "You don't understand sarcasm, do you?"

"No, I do. I simply choose to ignore it."

"Well that's just great," Mello replied. "And are you _choosing_ to ignore the fact that we fell asleep out here like dumbasses, and it's fucking raining, and they've probably already called in some fucking alert for us, and oh god…" In the space of a few seconds he switched from annoyance and anger to full-on panic. "I swear to god, if this affects rank… Christ, what if it does? Fuck." He had put too much work into this to see it all end now, because of some stupid thing like this. Surely, they wouldn't kick them out? Matt probably not, but what about Mello? He had caused more than his fair share of trouble at Wammy's- trouble that he was now regretting, even though he'd never admit it to anyone.

"Whoa," Matt reached out and put a hand on either of Mello's shoulders. "Calm down, Mello." He caught the blonde's eye and held it with a steady, serious gaze. "Roger's not gonna take you down in the ranks or kick you out. So we fell asleep and missed curfew? Big deal; it's not the end of the world. I've done loads of stuff worse than this before… then again, I've never gotten caught."

"Well none of this would have happened if _you_ hadn't-," Mello accused.

"Oh, what?" Matt removed his hands from Mello's shoulders and folded them angrily across his chest. "You gonna get mad at me now? Well, isn't that a big fucking surprise." He rolled his eyes.

"No."

"Huh?" Matt looked just as surprised as Mello felt saying it.

"No," Mello repeated, taking a deep breath. "No… I'm not going to get mad at you. It's… not your fault, I know that." He took another calming breath, fighting back a deep-rooted instinct to fully bitch Matt out and blame him for this whole fiasco. But intellectually, he knew it was true. It wasn't completely Matt's fault.

"Oh, well that's…," Matt scrambled for words to cover up his shock. "That's good. Um..let's get going, yeah?" He stood quickly, stretching out his lanky body, and taking an appraising look around. Mello joined him quietly.

"What time do you think it is?"

Matt took another look at the sky and scrunched his eyebrows. "Well," he said pointing, "I'd say we slept for awhile."

Mello looked in the direction of Matt's finger and winced. The sky was starting to lighten at the horizon in that direction. Deep, midnight blue giving way to pale turquoise, shot through with pink, although the whole thing seemed darker with the rain. "Shit," he muttered, "we screwed up."

"Nah," Matt shrugged. "We just gotta find a way to get back. We'll be fine."

"How do you propose we get back then, since you've apparently got this all figured out," Mello asked. Hey, just because he restrained himself from getting mad at Matt didn't mean he couldn't still give him a hard time. He was still Mello, after all.

Matt took one last look around. "We walk."

Mello stared at him incredulously. "You want to walk all the way back to Wammy's? It's miles! Not to mention I'm not even sure where we are!"

"Well, it's pretty much our only option." Matt shrugged. "David's probably gone looking for us and there's no way the buses are running at this hour. We could wait until the stores start to open and call then?" he offered.

"No," Mello said firmly. "That'll take hours. I just want to get back as quickly as possible… Just in case."

Matt rolled his eyes again. "I still say you're overreacting, but it's cool. It's important to you." his expression hardened and for a moment his gaze seemed far away. "I get what it's like to have something important to you, and to feel like, no matter what, you can never get it. Sort of like life keeps getting in the way and fucking everything up."

Then the moment vanished and Matt seemed to snap back into the present. "So…walk?"

Mello nodded and wordlessly fell into step beside Matt. "You got any clue where we're going?"

"That way." Matt pointed ahead of them with confidence.

"Good," Mello said quickly. It irked him to have to put his trust in someone else, to follow someone else's lead. But the weird thing was, it didn't annoy him quite as much as it normally would. But that definitely, he told himself fiercely, had nothing to do with Matt.

The rain continued in a steady downpour as they walked without speaking. The cold drops felt good against Mello's swollen nose, but that was it as far as the plus side went.

With every step, his feet squelched in his water-logged sneakers. His wet t-shirt clung to him like a second skin, and his jeans were heavy as lead. After what felt like the millionth time, he gave up on pushing the soaked hair from his face and just let it hang there, tickling his forehead.

Matt, he noted with some irritation, seemed just fine with the situation. Even though his own clothes had to be as cumbersome as Mello's- possibly even more because of his jacket- and his red hair was clinging to his face, he looked… if not happy, than at least slightly amused.

Matt had led them out of the empty lot, past the strip mall with the coffee shop and toy store, and out onto the side of the main road. There were no cars and the storefronts were dark and closed. The sky was still lightening off in one direction, but the rain cast a gray, melancholy wash over the world. It was almost peaceful- if not for the riotous thoughts that tumbled through Mello's head. From '_What if this affects my rank?' _to '_Damnit, does Matt have to stand so close' _to '_I will never get these shoes dry again'_.

They had only been walking on the side of the road for a scant ten minutes when the rumbling of a car engine broke through the sound of the hammering rain.

"Hey," Matt said excitedly, "maybe we can get a ride." He turned around as the car drove up behind them, its headlights casting their shadows starkly against the pavement.

"Forget it," Mello said, keeping his gaze straight ahead. "The only people who would give us a ride at this hour are pedophiles and rapists."

"Or police," Matt said grimly. Mello whipped his head to look as the car pulled up beside them and slowed. The headlights blinded him momentarily. As the flash faded from his eyes, he made out the outline of a police car. The driver's side door opened an officer leaned out, shielding his face from the falling rain with one hand. "Are you boys named Matt and Mello?"

"Yes," they answered at the same time; Matt, hopefully, Mello, reluctantly.

Mello groaned inwardly. Deep down he had been holding onto the hope that maybe- _maybe_- they could get away with just sneaking back into Wammy's with as few people noticing as possible. But it didn't seem like that was a possibility now.

The officer was older and his uniform pulled tightly over an expanding belly. His brown hair was buzzed short, but he had a kind eyes and a mouth that looked like he smiled often. He gestured with a quick jerk of his head. "Go ahead, get in the back boys. I'll get you home."

The man started up the car after speaking into his radio, calling off the apparent search for them. Mello's face burned with embarrassment and he slid down in the seat as far as the seatbelt would allow him, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"See?" Matt leaned across the small space between them and poked him playfully in the side. "It all worked out, didn't it? You just gotta trust me."

Mello sighed and leaned his head against the window, watching the water collect into heavy beads and trail down the glass. "Shut up, Matt."

Matt frowned and sat up straight, staring ahead. Mello flinched; he hadn't meant it to come out that harshly. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just…need to think."

And it was true. There was a thought nagging at him. It had started off small and quiet, but as they walked it turned into a cacophonous riot in his head; one that was only getting worse the closer they got to Wammy's.

He was worried what kind of trouble they were in, yes; but that didn't even begin to scratch the surface. He had never given much thought to what would happen if he didn't succeed L, but now, the first time his secession felt truly in peril, it was all he could imagine.

His entire life, as far back as he could remember, was about the secession. Looking forward, he didn't see a future- he saw only two possibilities. Either he would become the next L… or he would be nothing.

Because when it came down to it, what did he have to offer the world besides a bad attitude and some well-placed sarcasm? Near was cold, and indifferent, but people would follow him. Xanthe could get by on her musical talents alone. Linda had her art. Matt… well, there was no way Roger allowed all those computers unless was damn good at what he did. All the kids at Wammy's were exceptional. They were all brilliant.

But what could Mello do if he couldn't become L? If he wasn't L's successor, than he was just another spoiled, narcissistic brat. If he wasn't L… what was he? He had never put in quite those terms before but everything- _everything_- was riding on that one simple decision. Him or Near. A future… or nothing.

Mello felt as though his insides had been replaced with ice and his head throbbed in time to the beat of his heart. He was barely aware of reaching Wammy's and being sheperded inside by one of the teachers. His head was still swimming with his realizations. Only when the teacher ordered them to Roger's office straight away, did Mello regain the present.

"Can we at least go change?" Matt was asking, wringing out the hem of his jacket. A small puddle formed on the floor, the drops making loud splashes, as if to prove his point.

"I think you've both caused enough trouble for one night. Might as well get it over with," the man answered. His voice was stern and his small eyes were hard behind his rectangular glasses. Mello couldn't place him- one of the mathematics teachers maybe? Not that it mattered.

"I don't see why we can't just-," Matt argued.

"Go. Now," he said firmly.

Matt grumbled loudly as he started down the hallway, leaving a trail of watery footprints. "This is totally child abuse, just so you know."

Mello caught sight of a clock as they passed the empty rec room. IT was nearing six thirty in the morning; the House was just beginning to wake for the day. Far off sounds of banging pots and pans could be heard from the kitchens and a few early risers wandered the halls- or perhaps the ones that hadn't slept at all.

Roger was waiting for them outside of his office. He looked older and more tired than Mello had ever seen him- but perhaps it was a trick of the light because as they approached he seemed to straighten up and take on the familiar mantle of authority.

"Mello. Matt." His voice was firm but not angry. "You," he pointed at Matt. "In my office. You," Mello this time. "Wait out here."

Matt gave Mello a cheerful thumbs-up as he followed Roger into his office. Mello couldn't find it in himself to respond. As the door clicked shut behind them, Mello put his back against the wall next to the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. Even though the House was warm, his damp clothes still chilled him, and a steady pattering of water dripped from his hair onto the polished wooden floor. He was just wishing he had some dry clothes or at least a jacket when he heard Matt's voice raised from the inside Roger's office.

He scrambled to get closer, pressing his ear against the door. It was heavy and old; not very condusive to eavesdropping. Mello strauggled to make out what they were saying.

"…_I didn't mean… just feel bad about all this… it's not…"_ Matt's voice; he sounded apologetic.

Whatever Roger replied, Mello couldn't hear. The older man's voice was deep and difficult to detect. _"…have you leave this institution…"_ he finally heard.

Mello felt his blood run cold. Matt was wrong, and he had been right; it sounded like Roger was considering expulsion. He pressed his ear more firmly to the door, desperate for any bit of dialogue.

Another snippet of Roger's voice, _"…sure you…reconsider?"_

"_No."_ Matt's voice was firm and loud on the reply. Mello concentrated, all his focus turned towards the door.

"Eavesdropping, Mello?" A feminine voice with an upwards lilt broke through his concentration. He turned in anger towards its source.

"What the hell do you want, Linda?"

The girl pressed a sketch book to her lips to stifle a laugh. She was tall- taller than even Matt- and had shoulder-length brown hair cut into messy layers. "Well I _was_ getting up early to work on a project for art class, but then I overheard some of the teachers talking, and I had to come down and see for myself. Getting into some trouble, are we?"

"Overheard? Yeah, right," Mello snorted. "You've always been such a fucking snoop, Linda."

"So where were you guys?" Linda asked, a glint in her eye. "Or more importantly, how much trouble to you think you're in?"

"Hey Linda, here's an idea." Mello stood. "Why don't you come over here, and choke on my-"

"Mello!"

Roger's office door was open; the older man was escorting Matt out. "Get in my office, Mello," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose and squinting. "Linda, just go somewhere else."

Linda nodded to Roger, and gave a sly raise of the eyebrows to Mello as she ran off. He frowned; she had always annoyed him. Matt slid past him, not meeting his eyes. Whatever Roger had said to him, must have been bad.

Roger gestured to Mello to enter his office, and he did. Mello swallowed nervously as Roger seated himself carefully behind his desk and gestured to the empty chair in front of it.

"Sit down Mello. We need to have a talk."

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**What's going on? What were Roger and Matt talking about? Why is Linda such an ass? And most importantly... does anyone even care? Hahaha Let me know in a review. =]**


	12. Chapter 12

**It's been forever, hasn't it?**

**Yeah.**

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"You can't!" Mello blurted out. "You can't kick me out! It was an accident! I don't deserve to get fucking kicked out because of an accident! This is bullshit! There's gotta be some law against this somewhere! You can't! You just can't!"

He faltered, breathing hard from the stress of the situation and his own yelling. He tried to give Roger his best 'don't fuck with me' look and noticed with anger that Roger had a slightly bemused look in his eyes and seemed to be trying not to smile.

"Don't fucking laugh at me!" Mello's rage was renewed. "You think it's so goddamn funny to string me along like this? I've worked my entire fucking life to beat Near and now you're just gonna kick me out and _laugh_ at me? What?"

Roger had run his hands through his thinning hair in exasperation as Mello resumed his tirade. Now he paused. "Oh?" His voice was calm, and slightly amused. "Please do continue, Mello. I believe there are some people in the next town over that haven't heard you yet." Mello glared at him. "Oh you're done, then? Then why don't you do as I originally suggested, and _sit down._

Mello lowered himself quickly into the chair, eyes locked on Roger the entire time. Unfortunately, Roger, it seemed, had seen it all and even Mello's best intimidation glare had no effect on the older man.

"Now Mello," Roger continued, his expression becoming more serious. "If you'd like to cease speaking for a minute, I think you'll be interested in what I have to say." Mello bit down on the inside of his mouth to stop himself from giving a sharp retort. "I'm not going to, nor do I have any plans in the future, to expel you from this institution."

"But-" Mello began.

"_However_," Roger said loudly, and Mello grit his teeth down even harder. The sickly taste of his own blood filled his mouth. "That does not mean that I'm going to completely overlook your behavior from now on. I shouldn't need to remind you that everything you do, and I mean everything, will be scrutinized when L makes his decision."

More blood, and now Mello felt a bit of skin from the inside of his cheek pull away. "But," he began, and Roger made no move to stop him this time. "You said something to Matt. Something about having him 'leave this institution'."

Roger let out a deep sigh. "Ah, of course. Sometimes I wonder if there's even a point in having doors here. You all seem to hear everything anyway. I'll ignore your transgression this time, but please do take note that I do not tolerate eavesdropping. And," he continued, and his voice was more serious than Mello had ever heard it. "What was said between Matt and myself in this office, will stay between Matt and myself. You have no right or privilege to that information. Perhaps Matt may choose to share it with you, but I will certainly not."

For that, Mello had no reply. But there was still something else bothering him. "So L is going to know about tonight?"

Roger took a deep breath. He seemed to be scrutinizing Mello and before long he appeared to come to some sort of internal decision. "As far as I'm concerned," he said, "you did exactly as you were told tonight."

"What?" Mello could not stop the word from blurting out, he was so taken aback. This was not at all what he was expecting.

"You were told to improve your social conduct and attempt to make a connection with your fellow classmates. What I see before me this morning, is the obvious result of that. Although your methods were… unconventional, I see no reason to punish you for simply doing what you were advised."

"But we-"

"Mello." Roger sounded tired and exasperated. "Do not argue with me. I cannot guarantee how long my good graces will last. Just know that, just this once, I will mark down that you complied with orders and took the initiative to become more social. How and why you did it… I will leave that part of it out this time."

For the moment, Mello was slightly in shock. He didn't know what to say. He had been expecting expulsion, detention… anything but what had just happened.

"Well," said Roger. "I have said all I have to say. If you have no further questions, please leave my office. There's a few things that need to be cleaned up from your little adventure last night. And Mello, try not to get into any more serious trouble. I can't guarantee this leniency again." With a wave of his hand, Roger dismissed him and focused his attention on a stack of papers at the corner of his desk.

But Mello didn't move from his seat. "Why?" he asked.

Roger looked up, frowning. "Why, what? Was I not clear?"

"Why are you helping me like this?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," Roger replied, looking up from his papers and giving Mello a stern look. "I am simply fulfilling my duties as the proprietor of this orphanage."

"That's not true." Now Mello leaned forward in his chair, fixing his narrowed eyes on Roger. "If that were the case, then you'd tell the truth in my file. You'd say that I broke the rules, that I was being disruptive."

"Mello, I am growing tired of this very quickly. I am simply doing my duty, and making sure that the best person available is chosen for the position of the next L."

"And you think that's me? Why not Near? He scores better than me on almost everything."

Roger brought both hands up to rub at his temples. "Mello," he was quieter now, his voice sounded almost defeated. "Everyone in this world is selfish. No one does something purely for the sake of others. You'd do well to remember that."

"But what does that have to do with-"

"I am a selfish man," Roger interrupted him. "I want justice in this world and I think that you are more suited to the position than Near. But I'm selfish. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for me. Now get out of my office. I have things to do."

"I don't-"

"Out."

Mello tried several more times, but Roger was done talking to him for the time being. Begrudgingly, Mello admitted defeat and left the office, staring inquisitively at the older man as he shut the door. If he Roger knew that he was being scrutinized, he gave no sign of it.

He had planned on returning to his room after everything that had happened- classes didn't begin for another two hours and he needed some serious time to mull over the conversation he had just had. Not to mention, by now Linda had surely told everyone she could find about Mello and Matt and the heaps of trouble they were sure to be in. He didn't much feel like dealing with all of the whispering and furtive glances yet. Not now, while his nerves were still frayed and his thoughts so muddled. However once he began the walk, he found his feet taking him along the worn, wooden hallways to Matt's room. There was still the matter of what he had overheard when Matt was in the office, and the sooner he could clear that up the better he would feel.

He knocked rapidly on Matt's door and after a few moments was greeted with the _schink_ of locks being undone. The door opened inward slightly and Matt's face, framed with his mostly-dry-now red hair, peered at him from the gloom. He opened the door a little more and stood aside to let Mello in.

"You hate light, don't you?" Mello asked, entering the room, which was lit again only by the glow of computer monitors. The sun still hadn't quite broken out the clouds on the horizon yet and no sign of it could be seen through the curtained window.

"What is this 'light' you speak of?" Matt asked jokingly as he returned to what he had been doing. The redhead picked up his DS, the tiny screen glowing in the dark, and sat on his bed, legs folded beneath him and eyes intently focused on the game.

"Well?" Mello said with exasperation, still standing, arms crossed and a slight frown on his face.

"Well, what?" Matt's eyes didn't move from the handheld.

"Aren't you going to ask how it went? I could be on my way out of here for all you know."

"It went fine."

Mello snorted derisively. "Oh, and how exactly do you know that?"

"Well," Matt said, still never breaking his concentration, "for one, there's no way Roger would have kicked you out over something like that. It's trivial. You're one of the best here. Sure you've got a really shitty attitude, but that doesn't change your potential."

"Thanks," Mello replied sarcastically.

"_And_," Matt continued, "if you had been kicked out there is absolutely no chance in hell that you would have walked calmly to my room and be standing here right now. No doubt, they would have heard the cursing all the way in China."

"Huh," Mello exhaled sharply. "Aren't you just so smart." He allowed just a hint of sarcasm to creep into his voice.

"You gonna tell me I'm wrong?" Matt finally looked up, amusement in his green eyes. Mello said nothing, fixing his gaze somewhere in the corner of the room instead. "Thought not." The tinny, hollow sound of explosives came from his DS and 'Game Over' flashed across the screen. "Damn," Matt said, sounding noncommittal. "Oh well."

He snapped the DS shut and tossed it onto his nightstand. Trading the small blue electronic for a pack of cigarettes from the drawer and a lighter he fished from under the mattress after a few seconds of searching. He lit one up and Mello's nose crinkled at the acrid smell of smoke.

"Do you mind?" he said, as Matt exhaled a heavy stream of smoke in his general direction.

"Do you?" Matt retorted. "This is _my _room."

"Open a window or something." Mello gave Matt a slight glare, and Matt shook his head in exasperation.

"Fine, fine, Mr. Uptight. I'll even go outside if you want." Without waiting for a response, Matt jumped up off the bed and pushed the window sash up. A cool, slightly humid breeze flowed in, mingling with the smoky air and making it slightly more breathable. Matt had one foot up on the window opening and an arm on either side to steady himself, and was getting ready to swing the other leg up, when Mello interrupted him.

"What are you doing? We just went through all that shit tonight and now you're going to go around climbing on the roof?"

Matt turned his head to look at Mello. "Exactly. We _just_ got in trouble. They won't be expecting us to pull anything for another two, maybe three hours tops. No one will even be looking for us to do anything." And before Mello could argue Matt had swung his other leg through the opening and dropped onto the rise of the room just below his window. He popped his head back over the frame to peer at Mello. "You coming?"

Mello looked around in exasperation, before finally saying, "Goddamnit," and following Matt's lead. Once on the roof itself he felt slightly better about the whole situation. The roof wasn't at a very steep angle, and had so many chimneys and it rose and fell in so many places from expansions that had made to the building over the years, that it felt quite safe and hidden. He followed Matt over the tiles, being careful not to slip over wet patches left by the night's rain, until they came to a bit of roof that looked out at the back of the Whammy estate, into the trees behind the orphanage. It was still too early for much anyone to be up and about, and the sun had just managed to poke its weary head out of the clouds on the horizon, sending its meager, gray-washed rays to the earth. It was going to be a gloomy, rainy kind of day, Mello could already tell. As they sat down, Mello noticed how the roof tiles were slightly more worn here, and how spent cigarette butts littered the area.

"Come here often?" he asked.

"It's a nice place to think." He had dropped his first cigarette in the climb and now lit up a fresh one, inhaling deeply, and then offering it wordlessly to Mello.

"No thanks, I like my ability to breathe," Mello said sarcastically.

"Suit yourself," Matt replied. "Don't see what's so special about it though." A comfortable silence stretched between them for a minutes, and then, "So how _did _it go, anyway? Since you were so keen for me to ask."

Mello was silent for a moment, searching for the right words to describe his meeting with Roger. "It was… weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, weird. I thought he was going to be mad. Instead he sort of… I don't know. It almost seemed like he _wants _me to beat Near." Matt raised an eyebrow in question and Mello continued, "He said he thought I was best suited to the job? Or something like that. Oh," Mello's brow furrowed in confusion at memory. "And he said something about how he was selfish. He said that everyone in the world was selfish, himself included."

"What do you think he meant by that?" Matt asked.

"I have no clue." They were silent for another moment. "Hey," Mello took a deep breath, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. "What did Roger say to you? I was sure I heard him say something about kicking you out."

"Huh?" Matt turned quickly and gave him an unreadable look. "No." The redhead seemed to force himself to relax and casually flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. "He didn't say anything about that."

"Are you sure? I was listening and I heard him say something about you 'leaving this institution.".

"Nope," Matt replied, flicking more ash. "You must have heard wrong. You were already nervous about getting kicked out, so your mind probably played a trick on you, let you hear what you were most scared of. Something like that."

"Sure," Mello said, slowly taking his gaze from Matt and staring out across the still wet grass at the struggling daylight. "Something like that."

He wanted to believe Matt. But he couldn't help but notice that the other boy would not meet his eyes.

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**So yeah, I've been gone forever. To be honest, I sort of fell out of love with writing in general. I was going through some things in my life and nothing really seemed all that important anymore. But I'm better now, and thanks to a lovely someone who gave me the kick in the butt I needed to start writing again, I'm back. Thank you all for staying with me if you have and welcome to all new readers as well. I hope you guys can forgive me for disappearing on you like that. **

**Thanks guys. Reviews to let me know if this newest chapter is worthy? **


	13. Chapter 13

**Writing this chapter, I came to realization that my writing style feels... different to me than it used to. Am I imagining this? I don't guys, LIFE IS STRANGE.**

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"Would you _stop_ that?"

"Stop what?" Matt twisted in his chair to look at Mello, as their egg (ugh, their _baby_, Mello reminded himself) landed neatly in his hand.

"Throwing the egg."

"Peach," Matt corrected him with a mock look of disappointment. "I can't believe you don't remember our own daughter's name."

"Peach, pickles, look I don't care," Mello said with just a hint of frustration. "I just want to get this stupid project over with. _And stop throwing the egg!"_ Mello exhaled loudly as Matt rolled his eyes. "That's my-"

"-rank you're messing with!" Matt said in an imitation so startlingly alike in voice and demeanor to Mello that the blonde almost forgot his annoyance. "If you break that egg," Matt continued mocking him, "we'll fail and I'll never be L and I'll have to get a job as a paper boy or a prostitute, because those are the only jobs open for failures!"

"Huh," Mello scrunched his eyebrows together and tried hard to maintain just a bit of his huffiness, but it was difficult when the redhead's impression was so spot on. "Maybe I should stop saying that if you've already memorized it."

"Please do," Matt replied chuckling. "You need a new speech. I'm getting really tired of that one. Oooh, how about one where you complain that the moon landing was faked and everything is a giant conspiracy?"

This time it was Mello who rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to the papers laid out in a semicircle around him on Matt's bed. Mello had commandeered the bed earlier that afternoon, forcing Matt to take refuge in the worn-out rolling chair in front of his computers. However, unlike Mello, Matt wasn't actually doing any work. Instead he had stretched his lanky body out and propped his sock-covered feet on the bed, watching while Mello wrote (or tried to write would be the more accurate phrase) their egg journal.

"Tuesday, Tuesday," Mello muttered to himself. "What did we do on Tuesday?" He asked the question half to himself, half to Matt.

"You know," Matt said, ignoring Mello's question completely. Although he'd only known the other boy for less than a week, Mello couldn't say he was surprised. Matt liked to talk about what _he_ wanted to talk about, other people be damned. Sometimes it made Mello want to strangle him. But in a good way. Sort of. "I don't like this skirt," Matt continued.

Mello sighed heavily. "What?"

"I mean," Matt picked at the doll's skirt he had taped to the egg. "I know I'm the one that picked it out and everything, but now I'm worried I may have made a mistake. I was going for a more adult look for our little girl, but now I'm worried she just looks like a brazen hussy."

Mello put a hand over his eyes, half in exasperation, half in amusement. "You know, I'd respond to that, but I'm pretty certain that whenever I talk, all you hear is a big whooshing sound anyway."

"Hmmm?" Matt asked. "Sorry, did you say something? All I heard was the wind."

"Hilarious," Mello put some of his well-practiced sarcasm to good use. "Ughhh," he gripped his pen in agitation. "Seriously, what did we do on Tuesday? We're never going to get this stupid egg journal done at this rate."

Matt shrugged. "I've slept since then." He laughed. "What a sorry excuse for geniuses we are."

"Shut up," Mello replied. Joking or no, he didn't like his intelligence questioned. It hit a little too close to home for him. "Oh!" _Speaking of hitting, _he thought. "On Tuesday, you punched me in the face_."_

"Huh," Matt's eyebrows disappeared behind his shaggy bangs. "I don't recall that. Though I do remember that you were a heartless bastard and ate- he glanced at the egg and lowered his voice- scrambled eggs."

"Sure," Mello said. "A heartless bastard that you_ punched in the face._"

"Are we allowed to write that in the journal?"

"Is that really a question?" Mello decided he had had enough of this journal business for the time being. "Ugh," he said again and pushed the papers off the edge of the bed. They fluttered lightly to the floor and joined the multitude of crumbs Matt had been telling himself that he'd clean for the last two years or so.

Matt watched with a slight smile on his lips. "Wanna go for a smoke?"

"_There_ we go," Mello replied as stood and stretched out his limbs. "That's what we'll write. '_Today we took our small, round child onto the fifth floor roof. Daddy number one taught her how to chain-smoke and Daddy number two taught her how to swear like a sailor. The end."_

"Never," said Matt, coming up behind Mello and slinging a friendly arm across his shoulders, "have I heard a more beautiful story." He laughed and removed his arm, swatting his hand at Mello's hair as he did so. "C'mon."

It had only been a few days, but accessing the roof through Matt's window and making their way to his smoking spot already seemed routine for them. Mello followed Matt through the opening, easily sliding over the sill and onto the roof. In full daylight, the wear on the roof tiles where Matt sat to smoke was even more evident. A clear sign that he had been doing this for years.

"Cigarette?" Matt asked when they had settled into their spots on the roof.

"No."

"You sure."

"I'm sure."

"You know," said Matt, talking around the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, "one day it'll be a yes."

"Not likely," Mello replied with a snort, "I prefer, you know, not dying."

"Ah," Matt leaned back on his elbows and exhaled a long stream of smoke. "But I want to die young and leave a beautiful corpse."

"Good luck with that. I hear lung cancer's really sexy these days." Mello pulled out a small chocolate bar that he had charmed off one of the cafeteria workers that morning. "I prefer my vices non-deadly."

"Yeah," said Matt, watching him unwrap and take out a third of it with a single bite, "because diabetes is really high on the list of attractive diseases this year."

A comfortable silence stretched between them. Matt tried in vain to blow smoke rings as Mello laid down on the roof. The tile felt rough through the worn fabric of his t-shirt, but not in a painful way. The day was warmer than it had been lately, the sun shone strongly down on the grounds, and lots of the children had taken advantage of the nice weather. Mello closed his eyes, listening to Matt's steady breathing and the faint sounds of the other kids on the lawn stories below.

Matt was the first to break the silence. "Don't you wish we could just stay up here? Never have to deal with L or Wammy's or any of that shit?"

"No."

"Okay then, O Mighty Crusher of Dreams," Matt responded dryly. "I do. I just don't understand what you see in this place."

Mello opened his eyes and squinted into the sun. "It's my future."

"This place is your future?"

"No," Mello said with exasperation. It seemed like Matt was being difficult on purpose. "Not this place. What it represents. L is my future. Beating Near is my future."

"And that's it?" Matt pressed on, heedless of the growing irritation evident on Mello's face. "That's all you've ever dreamed about? Becoming a shut-in detective, devoid of any real human contact, spending your entire life as a slave to the people?"

"Oh, like you're one to talk about human contact," Mello answered derisively. "If I weren't here, you'd be staring at your computer screen right now." Matt scowled, but Mello continued. "And I won't be a 'slave to the people'. I'll do what I want, solve the cases that I feel like solving."

"That's rich," Matt replied. "Spending your life dedicated to helping people that, as far as I can tell, you seem to hate pretty much on principle. You don't have a clue what L stands for."

"It means being the best," Mello replied without hesitation.

"It means working in constant danger to achieve justice for scores of people who will neither know nor care that you helped them. It means being nothing more than a disposable name, someone who can be replaced at the drop of a hat by a hundred different kids trained to do nothing more than be better than _you._"

For a brief second, Mello imagined himself yelling at Matt. Screaming. Matt had no idea what he was talking about. Except that…maybe he did. The fight went out of Mello suddenly, and it was a feeling so foreign he hardly knew what to make of it. The embers of rage were continuously smoldering in his chest, and to feel them extinguished, even if only for a little while, made him feel strangely empty. "But it's all I know."

Matt exhaled shortly and tossed his spent cigarette over the edge of the roof. He no longer seemed in the mood to argue either. Both boys felt the gravity of the conversation they had just had, but neither felt equipped to handle it at the moment. "Let's just go finish writing our journal," Matt said finally.

"Yeah."

In silence, much less comfortable than the one before, they made the short trek back to Matt's room. Once inside, Matt reached to close the window, but wordlessly, Mello held up a hand to stop him. The weather soothed him, and he didn't want it to end just quite yet.

"So," Matt picked up the papers from the floor, and sat down on the bed. "Where were we?"

"Trying to figure out what to write down for Tuesday," Mello answered.

"I thought we were going to put that I punched you in the face and you cried a little girl?"

"I did not cry. And I especially didn't cry like a little girl."

"Mhm-hmm," Matt pursed his lips in mock disbelief. In a few minutes, the familiar rhythm of their conversation returned as they goaded each other and unleashed bouts of sarcasm like only teenage boys are capable of. Their conversation on the roof wasn't forgotten- not by a long shot. But it was put aside, carefully wrapped up in memory in the corners of their minds, where it could retrieved later. Later when everything became at once utterly confusing and painfully hopeful, terrifying and at the same time exhilarating. For the present though, neither boy expected such a day to come, at least not nearly as soon as it did.

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**You have my permission to stone me to death for this horribly boring chapter. Blah blah breather chapter blah. Hey, our boys can't be constant action all the time. They need time to eat and sleep and do _stuff._  
**

**I love you all dearly and would love to hear your feedback. =] **


	14. Chapter 14

**So this chapter was orginally wayyyyyy too long. So I cut it up into two chapters so... yay abrupt endings!**

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"Wow," Mello said with a slight hint of sarcasm as Matt slid into the seat next to him. "Way to cut it close there Matt."

"I had a prior engagement," Matt said, sounding slightly out of breath.

"Did you-"

Matt rolled his eyes while he reached for his battered backpack. "Yes, your highness. I brought the journal." He pulled a sheaf of stapled pages from the bag, waving them at Mello. "See? I even typed it up all pretty for ya."

"Hmmph." Mello grabbed the papers, his lips curled into a disgusted expression. "And why is it _pink_?"0

"Peach wanted it that way," Matt replied, placing the egg on the corner of his desk, fenced in by two pens and his DS so it wouldn't roll off.

"You wrote our journal in pink because an egg told you to?" Matt nodded, a serious expression on his face. Mello stared him down for a moment and then shrugged. "Eh, it's still not the worst thing you've ever said."

There was a beat and then both boys cracked up laughing. A few of the kids seated around them looked in surprise. It was weird enough to see Mello talking civilly to another person, let alone laughing with them. Their interest lasted only a few seconds though, as Roger came striding in the door, briefcase in hand, a no-nonsense sort of look on his face. The older man placed his briefcase lightly on the desk before drawing a deep breath and turning to face the class.

"I trust you all brought your eggs back in one piece?" Most of the class nodded, while a few looked around sheepishly. Roger sighed. "And your journals as well?" There was a large shuffling of papers as kids reached into their bags to extract their journals and place them on their desks. "Good," said Roger, looking relieved that this project seemed to have gone well for the most part. "Everyone just sit tight and I will come around and individually evaluate the well-being of your egg."

Mello turned to talk to Matt and was surprised when he saw a look of genuine glumness on the redhead's face. "What's up with you?"

Matt sighed heavily, looking even more unhappy. In the background, they could hear Roger informing another student that, no, bringing back a broken egg in a Tupperware container did not count. "I'm just sad." He sighed again.

Mello felt the corners of his own mouth turn down. He didn't normally feel affected by other people's emotions, but he was used to Matt being so much more vibrant that he was momentarily thrown off. "What's wrong?"

"Our little girl is leaving us!" Matt burst out, looking dangerously close to tears. "I knew that it had to happen eventually, but I just love her so much."

Mello's jaw dropped a bit. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "And the sad part is," he said to Matt, who was now grinning as if he had pulled off a master prank, "I know that you're just a little bit serious."

"Ah, but I totally got you," Matt teased.

"What?"

"Admit it. For a moment there, you cared about my emotions."

"No I didn't. I was just concerned that you would cry all over our journal and then we wouldn't be able to turn it in."

"Sureeeee."

Their back and forth was interrupted as Roger approached, gradebook and pencil in hand. "Matt, Mello." Matt nodded in acknowledgement; Mello simply stared. Roger reached down and delicately plucked the egg from it's enclosure on Matt's desk. "I see your egg made it through the week relatively-" he raised an eyebrow at the skirt taped onto it, "unscathed. Your journal?"

Mello handed over the pages filled with pink type. Roger raised an eyebrow again while Matt snickered. "And I trust," Roger continued, turning his gaze to Mello, "that you two worked well together."

Mello started to blurt out a sarcastic remark, but Matt slapped a hand over his mouth and answered cheerfully. "Sure did." Roger gave them an unreadable look and then walked off to observe Near and Xanthe's egg.

"Ow!" Matt cried suddenly, yanking his hand back and glaring at Mello. "You bit me!"

"You covered my mouth," Mello retorted calmly.

"Yeah, but, you bit me! What are you, five?" Mello crossed his arms and stared sullenly ahead while Matt nursed his wounded palm. The redhead was doing his best to look mad, but even Mello could tell he wasn't really. If anything, he seemed slightly amused.

Roger had made his way back to the front of the classroom. "Well," he said, "I'm pleasantly surprised. There were less… casualties than I expected. So to finish off this project I'd like you each to take this opportunity to write a three page paper on what you've learned from this experience. It will be due-"

"What?" Mello's voice rang through the classroom and everyone turned to stare at him. "You're kidding right? You've got some of the brightest minds in the world here and you want us to write a paper on how we feel about taking care of an egg?"

"That's true," Matt piped up before Roger had a chance to reply. "It's not like we needed this project anyway. I mean, let's be honest. How many of the people in this room do you honestly think have the social skills necessary to reproduce?" About half of the class looked offended; the other half looked amused.

Roger pursed his lips and looked down sternly over his glasses. He glanced around at the student. "Is that what you all really think?" There were a few murmurs of agreement. Near, Mello noted, sat stock still, not seeming fazed by the events at all. "Fine."

Mello looked up in surprise. "You're right," Roger continued. "Why should I have all of you write a paper? Instead, how about just Matt and Mello?" There was silence and then someone chuckled. If Mello had been able to see who it had been, he was fairly certain they would have two black eyes by now.

"That's not-" he began angrily.

Roger smiled smugly. "No arguments. Class dismissed early."

"What the-" Mello began.

"Calm." Matt cut him off and reached over to place a firm hand on Mello's arm. "Pick your battles Mello." Mello inhaled sharply through his nose and clenched his fists. He could feel his nails biting into his skin. "Calm," Matt murmured, quieter this time.

Mello let his breath out in a sharp burst. "Fine," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Come on," Matt said, releasing his grip on Mello's arm. "It's just a paper. It's not that bad."

"It's not just-"

"I know," Matt said quietly. "Come to my room with me okay? Cool off a bit. Then we can write our papers together."

"I can't." Mello finally unclenched his fists. His nails had left white half-moons across his palms. "It's-"

"-Ranking day. I know," Matt responded. "It's not important. Just come with me."

"Not important? How can you say that?" While they argued the room had emptied quickly of students. Ranks would be posted soon; they were probably all huddling down at the hall leading to Roger's office.

Matt looked around, as if checking that the room was truly vacant before saying, "You know what I think about the ranking system. I've told you. Don't make me repeat it."

"Well it's important to me," Mello said icily. With a violent push, he stood and shoved his chair back. "Now if you'll excuse me," there was anger in his voice, "I'm going to go wait for the ranks to be put up."

Matt threw his arms up in exasperation. "Why? Why bother? Why do you insist on torturing yourself with this stupid system?"

"It's not stupid."

"But it is!" Matt yelled. Mello jumped slightly in surprise. Matt was not a person that yelled a lot, and when he did, it was disconcerting. "That rank isn't you! It has nothing to do with you! It's just a number! What can L tell from a number? Nothing, and he's stupid if he thinks that he can pick a successor based off this ridiculous system! So you're number two? Who cares?"

"I care," Mello said obstinately.

"Why?" Matt continued, and his voice echoed a bit in the empty classroom. "It's just a number on some made-up scale! It's not you! You can't possibly tell from a number that your eyes are the lightest blue I've ever seen in my life, or that you have more determination or passion than anyway in this sorry place, or that this system is crushing you, even though you don't realize it! How? How is a number going to tell L all that?"

"Listen," now it was Mello's turn to be angry. "You've made it perfectly clear what you think about the system here. Maybe you're right, maybe I don't like it. But it's what I have to do to be L, so I deal with it. It's not important to you? Yeah, okay, but it is important to_ me_."

Matt was gritting his teeth and looked like he had more to say. "Don't," Mello said simply. "I'm going to go look at the rankings now. Maybe you don't understand what it means to me, or maybe you just don't want to. I don't know and I don't care."

"Fine," Matt said, his expression hard. "Just, promise me one thing."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"I won't promise."

"Damnit, Mello, why do you always have to be so goddamn difficult!" Matt took a deep, steadying breath. "Just… come by my room tonight, okay?"

"Why would you want to see-"

"Just do it, okay?" Matt turned on his heel and burst through the classroom door angrily before Mello could reply. Mello exhaled sharply, frustrated. He was in the middle of telling himself that it had been good while it lasted, but really, he didn't need a friend like Matt, and there was no way he would be going over to Matt's tonight, when he caught sight of Matt's DS. It had slid off his desk and was lying open on the floor.

Mello felt a bit of the anger drain out of him as he knelt and picked up the toy. He snapped it close and slipped it into his pocket. He would go see Matt tonight, he told himself, but only to give this back. Not because Matt wanted him to.

* * *

**Reviews? What do you guys think of where the story's heading? **


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